Seraphs Of Shadow
by Cosmic Moon Baby
Summary: Two souls, shattered and longing to be repaired, torn by a battle that has raged on for centuries. Can two shadows come together to put an end to their discord? Or will the past forever control the future? SD Vamp Fic
1. Shadows Entwined

*Disclaimer, Baby*  
  
I SO don't own Sailor Moon. But that would be an awesome holiday gift (make the note, people!) The pretty soldiers belong to Naoko Takeuchi/Kodansha and Toei Animation, not to the Cosmic One. Nor do I own Zimas (but man, would I dig one bout' now. . . ) Also notice that I don't own the concept of vampires, either, but I used it anyway. . . as in won't be the first, won't be the last. Gotta love some vamps.  
  
AN: THIS IS A RE-WRITE! I changed my crazy mind about the direction in which this story was to travel, so this is the result, and I think it's better than before, though I have been wrong. . . Anyway, I hope everyone digs it, because I enjoyed writing this menagerie! And now. . .  
  
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Seraphs of Shadow  
  
Chapter 1: Shadows Entwined  
  
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As encounters went, this was unusual for him. Normally, anyone that was stupid or unfortunate enough to stumble upon him while feeding could consider their life to be forfeited. However, this night, as he stood in the darkness of the park, hunched over his most recent victim, his keen ears picked up the sound of her approach immediately.  
  
While in the midst of feeding, he was nearly made witless by it and all rational thought left him, as if he were a shark reveling in the smell of blood in water. And tonight, of all the times and all the places on Earth, she happened to be there where he was, in the unstable condition he was in. As she neared, he felt her life force assault him as if it was wrapping itself around what should've been his soul. That is, if he had one.  
  
Darien dropped the lifeless corpse to the ground, intent on worrying about disposing of it later, after he'd dealt with what was to come. He turned toward the sound of her approach, not expecting to bear witness to what he did on the night which would haunt him for some time to come. The sight before him caught him totally off guard, and for the first time in ages, the vampire felt weak and vulnerable, and more surprisingly, found himself to be thoroughly enjoying the sensations.  
  
Another restless night for the young blond, as she strolled among the colorful rose bushes in the center of the vast park. Serena never worried about her safety on these late night outings, as she had twin automatic handguns strapped to her legs.  
  
One was loaded with regular bullets while the other contained a mixture of garlic extract and an acid cocktail. That one was for supernatural encounters, one such as this. She had felt his presence long before she saw him and knew that he felt hers as well.  
  
Serena had dedicated most of her life to two things: finding and destroying vampires, and finding a cure for their genetic disfiguration. The reasoning behind that was because she was not human, but a half ling, a day walker, a living undead.  
  
A product of the deadly kiss of an immortal, she possessed all the strengths of a vampire and none of the weaknesses. Sunlight didn't affect her, save for giving her an occasional headache after prolonged exposure. Needless to say, she didn't frequent the beach often.  
  
The huntress possessed a keen and altered perception of her surroundings and was always aware of the slightest change in her environment. Her strength was above average as was her stealth and speed.  
  
She'd learned to become a hunter long ago, and one very significant trait stood out amongst all the others: She was able to curb the blood lust, and only fed on vampires, not innocents.  
  
She was unaffected by their poison, as she was as far along in the change as she would be. A part of her would remain human, as the other aided her in finding a way to rid the world of dangerous blood suckers in one way or another, until her obsession could be satiated.  
  
This night would stand out, long after it had occurred, scarring itself into her mind forever. It was the night she'd come upon the infamous Darien, killer of gods knew how many, the shadow of the night that was a legend in his own right among supernatural buffs and hunters such as herself. The night in which she'd been forced to face the very demons that haunted her own soul.  
  
As she approached the sounds of feeding, the scent of blood thick in the air, her heart twisted oddly in her chest. Serena kept her pace steady, overlooking the strange pang. When her crystal blue eyes beheld him, she fought to keep control of the situation she then faced. Even she hadn't judged this to be so difficult to confront.  
  
He breath positively caught, leaving her unable to recall another time in recent history when it'd done so. Serena had seen her share of gruesome things: dismemberment, decapitation, evisceration, and so on, and none of them had shocked her as her sight of him had.  
  
For the first time in ages, the star blessed child, half demon and half angel, was mesmerized and completely taken aback. She felt as though her throat were closing up on her, and the seraph of night choked a bit while trying to regain her composure and her breath. This was most definitely him. Darien, whose legend preceded him.  
  
He dropped the body to the ground as he looked over at her, a careful finger wiping away the small stream of blood at the corner of his mouth. Not that he was a messy eater, but no one was perfect.  
  
The woman-child, not looking over sixteen, stood there, not moving, staring intently at him. The look upon her fair face was one of disgust, resentment. . . and absolute wonder. It was somehow new to him, yet it carried a familiarity that could not be denied.  
  
He felt his own body reacting torturously in response to that challenging gaze, and the immortal quickly held himself in check, studying his beautiful, though fragile looking adversary.  
  
It was her, and he knew it by the mere scent of her. Serena, the day walker, half human and half monster, as all the world rumored her to be.  
  
She hated the likes of him, didn't she? He guessed that she would attempt to kill him and that he'd be forced to spoil her fun. Normally, killing didn't bother him, as it was needed for his survival.  
  
But his emotions betrayed him as he reflected that killing the gorgeous creature standing before him was not an option. She looked at him with eyes that seemed to glow, a crystal blue that burned with a fire he'd not seen in ages.  
  
Mad desire threatened to consume him as their eyes burned into each other and he felt an odd feeling growing within the pit of his stomach.  
  
His eyes moved from hers to take in the rest of her, and he unconsciously licked his lips as he did so. Her body was held captive by a tight purple corset of silk and bone, unclasped at the top, leaving a fine view of her cleavage to play upon one's vivid imagination.  
  
An unbelievably snug pair of black leather pants clung to her long legs and he saw her guns, one strapped on each leg, waiting to be called into play.  
  
Black boots ran up to her calves, laced meticulously in place. A long skirt of sheer chiffon, violet like the mingling last rays of the sun hung down around her, billowing in the warm summer night's breeze around them.  
  
Her garments played upon her delicate curves deliciously and suddenly his hunger was back with a vengeance. He mused silently about how he'd go about divesting her of them, closing his eyes for a time at his deviant thoughts.  
  
Black leather gauntlets graced her small forearms, the laces hanging down carelessly from her wrists. Bands of silver metal wrapped around her upper arms, swirling in delicate patterns upon her soft looking skin.  
  
He absently wondered how sweet she would taste upon his tongue, and resolved to find out as soon as the chance presented itself. Her long blond hair was unusual, in that it was up in two pigtails that flowed out from two small buns on the top of her head. Unusual but beautiful.  
  
At her throat on a delicate purple ribbon hung a tiny ankh, shimmering in its simple silver elegance. Dainty like her, he thought, and yet such a powerful thing. Darien was very much enchanted by this half ling, this woman child that eyed him a bit warily, but with what one could've recognized as reverence.  
  
"Well, by the gods above. Never had I dared to imagine taking in the sight of you this night," he noted, with a touch of melancholy lacing his voice. Without another word, he took a step forward.  
  
Her hand went to her gun and she was aiming it directly at him before his foot touched the ground.  
  
"Don't," she said simply, cocking it with ease. A smile spread across his handsome face and he held up his hands as she continued to look him over.  
  
In the light of the moon hanging above them, she could make him out fine. He was quite tall, towering a good foot above her. Hair of ebony hair hung absently in his eyes, forcing him to frequently clear his vision of it.  
  
His white silk shirt billowed around him in the breeze, exposing the well defined muscles of his chest and neck, making her blood rush through her veins at an alarming rate. He was an amazing specimen, perfect in fact, she mused silently.  
  
Black leather was fortunate enough to rest upon his legs and she wished to be able to touch him in such a way. Black boots held his feet and she wondered if all vamps liked black leather.  
  
Her hand remained steady as she aimed at him, though her stomach was doing a little dance of its own. She understood what passionate creatures vampires were, as she'd experienced the ways of the game of lust herself. He would try to seduce her and she simply wouldn't allow it.  
  
At least, that's what she convinced herself at any rate. This was a game and she was no stranger to it. Her eyes met sapphire blue and she nearly lost all the composure she'd worked so hard for.  
  
If not for several very real factors and consequences, she'd perhaps have been possessed to allow him take her where she stood, not caring about the results. However, she regained her composure carefully, knowing full well that he was quite aware of the effect he had upon her.  
  
"I am fortunate, am I not?" he inquired, slowly walking towards her with raised hands.  
  
"Did you not hear me? Not another step!" she ordered, not daring to lose any ground.  
  
"Do be reasonable. I know what you desire, and it isn't to shoot me, is it?" he asked and she actually flushed, not remembering anything else that had tinted her cheeks such a lovely shade of scarlet. Damn.  
  
"I see our reputations precede us, eh Darien? What are you doing here?" she demanded, her eyes and actions telling two very different stories.  
  
No, she wasn't as cold as she wished him to assume. He could easily break her if he wished, make her beg. He contemplated a moment before answering.  
  
"I grew tired of my old haunt. This place is new, exciting. More. . . appetizing," he drawled, stopping not a foot from her.  
  
"How long has it been?" he wondered, unable to answer the question himself as he stood, taking in the aesthetically pleasing sight of the obviously irritated being before him.  
  
"Leave now, and I'll not kill you this day. Leave," she repeated, eyes burning as she totally ignored his question. Not tonight. She would not be drawn into this tangled web.  
  
"I think your words deceive your heart, fair one. Now, put that beastly thing away so that we may speak civilly," he told her, his hand inching towards her.  
  
Though unaware as to why, she allowed his hand to cover hers, surprised at how warm he was. She was expecting him to be like ice, kissed by the lips of winter, but was pleasantly shocked. His expression softened as he lowered the gun to her side, hand still covering hers fully.  
  
"Now, that's better. Tell me. . . Serena. Did you really intend to kill me?" he wondered, his eyes doing very wicked things to her. She swallowed hard, feeling her senses beginning to heighten, as if she was experiencing blood lust. This had to stop. If not, she knew just where it would lead. It simply could not be.  
  
"I mean to rid the world of the likes of you, Darien. It is my mission and I live by it alone," she said, removing her hand from under his. He seemed shocked by the parting as he frowned down at her.  
  
"Stop this madness, fair one. You are the same as I. You possess the hunger, do you not?" he asked, his fingers absently caressing her cheek, light as the breeze around them.  
  
"Though only for your kind. Aren't you afraid? What if I were hungry?" she retorted and he smiled.  
  
"I know I am," he whispered, and she caught his drift immediately.  
  
"I could kill you now," she pointed out, and he leaned down closer to her, face a mere inches from her own.  
  
"But you shall not, seraph. I can feel your heart and it tells me all I have need to know. You would kill me about as easily as I would kill you," he said lightly, his breath a bit icy against her cheek.  
  
"What do you want here?" she asked, anger building to a level she feared she'd not be able to control.  
  
"To find peace. Isn't that what we all want? Such a simple wish and yet so damn complicated. But I have other desires. Other needs. Can you not relate to that?" he inquired, his thumb running over her cheek as he attempted to claim her lips.  
  
He felt the blade at his throat and backed off a bit, his smile spreading across his face.  
  
"Very well, little seraph. I understand that you must be persuaded, and I can accept that. I consider myself to be very patient. Your mind will change, that I am sure of. In time, your hunger will match mine, and all you will have need to do is ask," he informed her, seeing her face soften at his words.  
  
"But until those words leave your sweet lips, I will contain myself," he assured her, soon feeling the blade slip from his throat as she sheathed it once again.  
  
"Do not consider yourself to be anything but my enemy. I allowed you to live this time, but it may not occur again. Remember that," she nearly spat, angered that he saw into her soul so easily.  
  
"And you remember me, little angel, and what I have told you," he commanded.  
  
Before she knew it, his lips touched hers, surprisingly warm and gentle, like nothing she'd felt in an eternity.  
  
Not giving her time to react he was gone, vanished to who knew where to do who knew what.  
  
Serena stood there, her body shaking like a leaf in the wind. What had he just done to her? He'd broken down her defenses like they were nothing and she knew full well that he could've killed her if he'd wished it.  
  
But he hadn't and it troubled her to no end. What had stopped him, from taking the life of a hunter? Could it be. . .?  
  
She shook her head, determined to regain her lost self-possession. Her mind enjoyed playing tricks on her late at night, and the experience was enough to tire her emotionally and physically.  
  
Now her mind couldn't rest as she placed her fingers upon her lips. They still tingled from his kiss, and she knew then that something very real and very disturbing had just occurred. Something wrong, forbidden. . . impossible. And so right.  
  
Her hate mingled with the impractical feelings rising within her and she quickly pushed them aside, trying to think clearly as she walked towards her apartment. Amy would assuredly know what to do.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The immortal smiled as he stepped through the door, four sets of eyes looking him over intently. At times, he loathed the fact that his blood family knew him so well. . . or so they assumed.  
  
"Oh, no. Tell me you didn't," the calm Zoisite said, tugging a lock of his long blond hair in wait of the answer.  
  
"Darien, are you truly an idiot or do you just enjoy acting the part at times?" the crimson haired Nephlyte chided, already knowing the answer.  
  
"No one trusts me, do they?" he asked, appearing as if their comments where the ultimate stab at his heart.  
  
"Well, was she all you've waited for?" Raye asked dryly, perched atop the blond Jedite's lap.  
  
"I can safely confess that she was the most intriguing creature I've ever happened upon. And so sweet, too," he said, licking his lips in wicked remembrance.  
  
"Darien, you're going to get us all killed. Is that what you wish?" Jedite asked, his hand stroking Raye's long black hair softly.  
  
"She will not harm me. I felt it from within her. The lady is not what everyone assumes her to be," he pointed out, only drawing forth frustrated sighs from his blood drinking associates.  
  
"Darien," Zoisite said, rising from his chair to meet his gaze.  
  
"She is a day walker, a hunter. She will destroy you if you do not take her first. It is the reality you face. Why let a reputation fuel a false feeling, my friend?" he asked, causing the subject of his lecturing to frown.  
  
"Who labels it false, Zoi? Have a bit of faith in me. Would it not be better to work with her than against her? She may have the key to stopping the hunger," he pointed out, and another audible sigh followed soon afterward.  
  
"We are what we are. She is what she is, though she has yet to accept it. She is your enemy, Darien. Satisfy yourself within her if you must, but know too that you will kill her when you have had your fill. She must die as the others if that should occur," Raye said strongly, her violet eyes unyielding.  
  
"You all speak without reason," Darien noted darkly, shaking his head.  
  
"She can help if you would but allow her to. Need I show you?" he wondered, never one to pass up a challenge. He knew what he'd felt and it was a want and need that matched his own, burning deep within her where she thought that no one would discover it.  
  
He determined then to draw it out, make her realize that working together would be much more worthwhile than trying to kill one other off.  
  
With a parting nod to his companions, he retired to his room, his bed seeming to be more empty than ever before. As his eyes closed, she appeared, the fierceness in her eyes making his blood run hotly through his veins.  
  
Sleep evaded him totally throughout the night, his only waking dreams of her, that angelic face and the blasted pride that was standing in the way of so much.  
  
Time would tell the victor of this battle and he satisfied himself in imagining how her bare body would feel pressed against his own, as he remembered the small taste of her he'd stolen earlier. He would indeed play this game as she so wished, making her beg him for what her heart, her soul, her body so desperately desired.  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
Serena slammed the door behind her, causing the blue haired Amy to look up from the pile of notes and figures before her, eyes gazing at the uncharacteristically flustered Serena over her cat's eye glasses.  
  
"Rough night, huh Sere?" she asked, wondering what or who could have had such a profound effect on her half ling friend.  
  
Though Amy was but human, possessing no supernatural prowess, she wasn't afraid to submerged herself in her line of work. She was a bloody genius after all. No code existed that Amy couldn't crack with the exception of one: the genetic mutation that caused the hunger to control the body.  
  
The brain child had been working on it for years, since she was in grade school in fact. She'd always been interested in such matters, and after meeting Serena when she was fourteen, they'd not parted company.  
  
Another friend of theirs, Lita, dwelt there as well. She was well aware of Serena's position, yet was still sympathetic and very helpful to her cause. Lita was a terribly strong woman, and Serena shuddered to think what she'd be like if she were an immortal. The Amazon was out on the prowl tonight as well, not having yet returned from her hunt.  
  
"You won't believe me if I tell you, though I wish now it were a lie," she said, un strapping her guns and setting them on the cold metal counter before her. Her beloved dagger came off next and she set it next to the twins, wishing to the gods that she'd just shot the accursed immortal earlier.  
  
But no, her damn heart had to interfere. . . or had it simply been her body protesting the urge to put a bullet in his head? No man, human or vampire had ever had such an effect on her, made her pulse quicken and her breath shallow as Darien had in the few short moments of their somewhat intense encounter.  
  
"What happened?" Amy wondered, getting up and walking over to her. She placed a gentle hand on her arm, looking into her eyes for any answers.  
  
Serena went over it again in her head, every angle and line of each visible muscle of his body. Eyes, so blue and piercing and full, as if they would trap her very soul and not let go. Hair black as a starless night, or perhaps the color of the sea beneath a starless night better described it.  
  
His chaste kiss still burned upon her lips and she found herself wishing to feel more of his body against hers, more of his touches, yet something killed her thoughts suddenly, without mercy.  
  
"He's a fucking vampire!" she shouted, angry with herself for allowing him to continue stalking the night.  
  
Amy stifled a laugh, squeezing her shoulder as she recovered from her small eruption.  
  
"He? So that's what's upset you so badly? A man?" she giggled, not capable of believing such a thing. Serena fumed, unable to express her emotions properly.  
  
"Not just any man, Ames. A damn vampire. And not just any average vamp, this is Darien, Amy. THE Darien. You know, the one who's name the wind howls? The one reputed to kill more frequently and efficiently than any other? That would be him. That's him and I should've killed the bastard but I couldn't. I couldn't fucking do it, and he kissed me! Right on the mouth, while I held my blade to his throat. He's already playing mind games with me, Amy. . . He thinks he has me where he wants me. Why would I want a damn vampire?" she huffed, and Amy fanned her face a bit, noticing her flush as she spoke of him.  
  
"I don't know. Why do you?" she retorted, and Serena pounded her fist so hard on the counter that it stung.  
  
"I DON'T! He just wants to make it known that he seduced and killed me, to all his blood sucking friends. I know what game he plays," she said defiantly, causing Amy to smile.  
  
"If that's the case, why didn't he just kill you then? Why would he waste all that time for the purpose of killing you if he could at any time?" Amy asked sensibly, and Serena gave up, throwing her hands in the air with a flourish.  
  
"I don't know, ok? And that bothers me, Amy. I allowed him to get that close, and still we both walked away. What does that mean?" she muttered, heading to her room to brood. Her door slammed shut with a crash and Amy sighed mightily before returning to her work.  
  
"Darien? Of all damn people, Serena. What kind of mess will this become?" she wondered aloud. She couldn't wait to talk to Lita about this. Who knew what he really had in store for her?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"That's the most fucked up thing I've heard all week," the tall brunette declared as she flopped down on the couch with a Zima in her hand.  
  
"Isn't it? I don't know what they're up to, but I do know that it isn't good. Why on Earth would he be trying to get close to her if he didn't want to use her for something?" the young genius wondered, sipping her own green tea delicately.  
  
"A better question would be, why didn't she shoot his ass? He was right there in front of her, and instead of blowing his carcass away, she stood there and let him kiss her! Serena let a man touch her, and not just any man. A damn vampire and Darien to beat all that to hell and back! It isn't like her to let her guard down like that with one of them. What am I missing oh Wise One?" Lita wondered, throwing back her beer as she contemplated the newest developments of the day.  
  
"I couldn't tell you. I can figure her out just about as well as I can their genetic code," Amy answered, scribbling furiously at her failed formulas in front of her.  
  
"Ames, chill out, ok? You're working way too hard. All of us are, I suppose. Sere looks like she's going to drop at any moment. I worry about her when she gets like this," Lita grumbled, looking toward Serena's closed bedroom door with a frown.  
  
"So do I. She's not thinking clearly and I'm afraid that she'll let her guard down at the wrong time and get herself trapped in something she can't escape from," Amy said with concern apparent in her voice.  
  
"Serena is every vamp's worst nightmare, but the most dangerous one of all seems not to fear her or to want her to fear him. What does he want, then, besides the obvious I mean?" Lita asked, her head starting to ache.  
  
"I don't know, but she needs to be careful. He's tricky and we have no idea how to handle him, especially if she couldn't even do that. She'll be ok, because we'll make sure of it," Amy said clearly and Lita nodded in agreement.  
  
"Sure. Heh, a blood sucker's got a crush on our girl. How sickeningly romantic," Lita noted, and their laughter filled the room, breaking the mood nicely.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
A few days later, after brooding nonstop for hours on end, Serena was out again, walking the dimly lit streets, the twins and her dagger keeping her company as usual.  
  
The damned immortal had been dancing through her mind constantly, his gorgeous image never fading to allow her any peace. For some ungodly reason, she longed to see him again, to feel his touch upon her skin.  
  
She could sense a vampire's presence, and she knew that they were near. Stopping suddenly, she felt an icy wind at her back, chilling her very soul.  
  
As she turned, blade in hand, she was knocked nearly senseless by a blinding stroke to the back of her head. The ground met her fiercely and she rolled to her feet without hesitation to face her attacker. She hadn't seen this one before.  
  
"You must be a newborn," she mused, drawing her guns fluently as she stared down the newcomer.  
  
"Half ling. You disgrace our world. Your pretty face won't save you," the brown haired vampire growled, his eyes glowing blood red before her.  
  
"Don't make me retch, you clumsy fuck. Haven't you heard? I am death to you," she growled, her aim taken at his head. His bitter laugh rang out, enraging the small woman- child that meant to bring on his quick demise by her own hands.  
  
Serena's had yet to begin functioning properly. Darien had seen to that with his forward actions and tantalizing words days ago, and she had yet to recover from the encounter.  
  
So it was that she found herself caught completely off guard by the unfamiliar vampire as he seized hold of her wrists, proceeding to unceremoniously disarm her before she'd realized what was happening to her.  
  
She wished more than anything that she had simply killed that bastard Darien and spared herself the mind torture that had gotten her into her present situation. This would be a bit more difficult than she had previously thought.  
  
This one was so full of hatred for who and what she was, the hunger showing plainly in his eyes. He was reaching the peak of his blood lust and she knew that she didn't have much time to make her move.  
  
"I'm going to enjoy you, day walker. How sweet will you taste?" he growled, slamming her hard against the hood of a nearby parked car. Serena thrashed about, trying to free herself from his monstrous grip.  
  
"Don't touch me, you beast!" she snarled, her fangs bared and ready to aid in her fight. Another blow to her face stunned her long enough for him to pin her down, and shortly thereafter his hands were exploring her body in places that no one had dared to go in quite some time. He was so cold and droid-like, causing a bout of nausea to wash over her. If only she hadn't allowed her guard to fall. Damn vampires and their accursed head games.  
  
While she continued to struggle, her irrational thoughts were interrupted as the breeze stopped entirely, the very Earth seeming to cease its rotation and an eerie stillness settling over the area.  
  
The inexperienced vampire drew his attention away from disrobing and violating Serena long enough for her to kick him away from her and to get to her feet, though a little shakily. She looked up, only to find a familiar shadow standing close by, his stillness almost menacing.  
  
"Aren't you a bit out of your league, child? The day walker is too much for you, I do believe," came his velvety voice, making Serena's heart begin to pound furiously within her chest. Why the fuck was she allowing this? Blasted vampire and his foul deceptions.  
  
"Back off, Darien! She is mine!" the rage driven demon spat, lunging for her again. This time, however, she was prepared for the attach, her blade at the ready by her side.  
  
She collided with him full force, nearly knocking him to the ground with her momentum. Her hunger was burning inside her now, prompting her to take advantage of it and show Darien what happened to naughty vampires that tried to have their way with her.  
  
Serena grabbed the back of the unknown vampire's head, forcing it back with her blade to his throat. Her legs wrapped nimbly around him as Darien watched, incredibly turned on by her every motion.  
  
"I belong to no one," she said definitely. She locked eyes with Darien, as she sank her fangs into his neck, streams of blood flowing unchecked down her chin. She drank until there was no life force left, removing herself from her position before the corpse fell upon the pavement.  
  
She stood, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand, holding her silver blade firmly in the other as she gazed into the glowing blue orbs of her adversary.  
  
"Feel like being next, darling one?" she asked, her voice smoky, seeming to echo all about him. She took a step forward and he did the same, not concerned by her intentions in the least.  
  
Serena felt her body beginning to argue with her mind again, as she started to lose all control that had previously been hers. The grip on her blade grew weak as his stormy blue eyes bored into hers, her meticulously erected defenses crumbling around her.  
  
"Stop," she managed, unable to articulate further than that one word. But still he persisted, just as she knew he would.  
  
"You're hurt. You may be reputed as such, but you are not invincible, fair one. Let me help you," he offered, extending a hand to her in earnest.  
  
She eyed it warily, as if it were a cobra intent on biting her, fighting the urge to become lost in his all seeing eyes.  
  
"Go now. You are my enemy," she said shakily, silently cursing her voice for betraying her so. He raised an eyebrow at her comment, a smile spreading slowly across his face.  
  
"Is that what your heart tells you? Or is that the whisper of the world?" he asked, taking her shaking hand in his. Her shocked gasp filtered into his ears, a small yet unbelievably pleasing sound. She was attempting to keep her feelings in shadow, but to no avail whatsoever.  
  
It was amusing to see the normally composed beauty struggling so much with her emotions. The immortal steadied himself, realizing that she was more fragile than he'd ever realized. He decided that the gentle approach would be necessary, else she would simply flee like a frightened bunny being pursued by a wolf. That always seemed to be his mistake.  
  
"What are you trying to pull, you shady bastard? Do you think me to be so blind?" she nearly shouted, though her eyes easily gave her away.  
  
"Why so hostile, dear heart? Why will you not accept my aid?" he wanted to know, not releasing her hand.  
  
"You are what you are, and I am what I am," she said coldly, and he cringed at the all too familiar words.  
  
"There you are grossly mistaken. We are much alike, you and I. We can be welcomed by peace, if you would for once put your bloody pride aside," he said just as coldly as she herself had spoken.  
  
She felt a heat consume her heart, a most disturbing sensation indeed.  
  
"The sun is nearing. Aren't you out past curfew?" she asked, trying to remove herself from his firm grip. However, he wasn't going to relent so easily.  
  
"Are you so concerned?" he questioned, appearing touched. She huffed and glared up at him, her eyes positively maddening to him.  
  
"Do not flatter yourself, you. . ." she began, before shortly being silenced.  
  
"I know. . . bastard," he finished for her, causing her to become even more flustered.  
  
"How much of that blood is actually his?" he wondered, gesturing to the corpse on the ground. She swallowed, licking her lips in a way that had his own demons raging in moments.  
  
"Only this," she answered, running her tongue along the corners of her mouth. He chewed his own bottom lip anxiously, feeling his hunger growing inside him. Gods, she was an impish tease. He had a feeling that she damn well knew it too.  
  
"Come along. I'll hear no more protests," he informed her, tugging on her hand.  
  
She resisted, of course, as he'd expected from the beginning.  
  
"I'll not go anywhere with you," she said plainly, her blade resting upon his neck again, though the shaking of her hand was soon obvious. He sighed with annoyance before gently pushing it away, in no mood for her obstinate ways.  
  
"Don't argue. You're going to fall over in about thirty seconds anyway, so you may as well allow me help you," he said sensibly, taking her dagger from her and leaving her staring in shock as he smoothly sheathed it.  
  
"You are either very bold or very stupid, though I know not which," she grumbled, feeling her wounds beginning to ache for the first time since they'd been inflicted.  
  
Serena could feel her own warm blood trickling down her face and she knew that once again, he was right. She did in fact need his help, as badly as she hated to admit it.  
  
"You have all the time in the world to find out," he promised, lacing a strong arm about her waist as her own arm draped itself around his neck.  
  
Her body defied her again, crying out its approval of his touch despite the revulsion she knew she should've felt.  
  
Without any reasoning or fear of betrayal she allowed him to lead her off down the dimly lit street, his steel like arm wrapped firmly around her, giving her all the support she would ever require. Her feet were unsteady, ears ringing from the blows she'd been so cruelly dealt, and the neurotic emotions overtaking her.  
  
The pair disappeared into the last traces of night, just before the first rays of the sun bathed the Earth with their fiery light.  
  
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Sadly, chapter 1 has come to an end. However, you, the beautiful readers, have the power to bring forth number 2! Give it to me straight. . . like this version better or no? Ja Ne!  
  
*Cosmic Moon Baby* 


	2. So Delicate The Thread That Binds

Yeah, it's a disclaimer: I so don't own Sailor Moon. . . those rights, my friends, go to Naoko Takeuchi/Kodansha and Toei Animation. However, should they ever grow tired of that ownership. . . I am SO there!  
  
AN: Jus' wanted to say thank you to those who dropped such awesome reviews on me for chapter 1. You made me so happy! Ok, so here's Chapter 2, and a note here: It's a TAD odd, but I wanted to try it out to see how you like it. Hope you enjoy. . .  
  
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*TRANSLATIONS ARE IN PARENTHESIS BELOW THE PARAGRAPHS IN WHICH THEY APPEAR*.  
  
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Seraphs of Shadow  
  
Chapter 2: So Delicate the Thread that Binds  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Where the hell is she?" Lita griped impatiently, pacing back and forth across the apartment that was presently minus its third occupant. Amy sat staring at her computer screen, running figures as usual and having an odd hunch as to where their friend might be.  
  
"Sit down, Lita. You're making me nervous," she ordered, and the brunette plopped down upon the couch as she wished, staring blankly out the window as she tapped her fingers against the arm of the couch anxiously.  
  
"It's him, isn't it, Ames?" she asked, stretching her long legs out in front of her with a sigh.  
  
"Isn't that obvious? I don't know what's happening between them, but it's most definitely something. But you know our girl. . . she can't be cornered or she'll fly. All we can do is be here when she needs us, just as she's always been," the wise one noted, scribbling furiously at her notes as she adjusted another formula to her liking.  
  
Lita rolled her eyes, not at all fond of the idea of waiting. Serena was quite the clever girl, never having any trouble taking care of herself in the least. That much was crystal clear. But lately, she'd been so spaced out and intrigued by the immortal known as Darien that she had been doing anything but thinking clearly. And that, Lita knew, was an open invite for trouble to show.  
  
"I just have a bad feeling about this. It isn't like her," Lita griped, causing Amy to chuckle at her overprotective reaction.  
  
"Stop worrying so much. She's a big half ling. She'll be fine. . . and just think. . . you can pester her for all the gory details when she gets back," she pointed out, causing laughter to erupt from them both.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
When the door opened, the occupants of the apartment did naught but stare as Darien entered, with none other than the notorious day walker under his arm, so dazed that her eyes refused to even remain open.  
  
Raye was the first to find her voice, the shock turning quickly to rage as she shot up from her comfortable perch upon Jedite's lap, prepared to crucify her brother for his foul judgment.  
  
"Are you out of your fucking mind? What are you thinking bringing her here?" she shouted, though Darien seemed unfazed by her angry barrage.  
  
"She's been hurt and I've taken it upon myself to aid her," he replied simply, half leading, half carrying the diminutive blond towards his bedroom door. Raye, ever obstinate, soon stood in his way, flanked by Jedite and Zoisite as her violet eyes burned with outrage.  
  
"No, Darien. Now that she's come here, she may not leave. You know that," she stated factually, causing the ebony haired man to frown as he adjusted his grip upon his precious cargo.  
  
"Raye, listen well, for I shall only say this once. No one is to lay an ill hand upon her, as she will uphold the same to all of you. She is no threat to you, though you remain too blinded by your own misgivings to see that," he informed them all heatedly, nodding for his path to be cleared.  
  
He soon found that she had no intentions of relenting, and it only served to anger him further. The half ling in his arms was still bleeding, still in need of his attentions, and they were doing nothing to aid in his cause.  
  
"How can you say that, Darien? She lives to kill our kind!" Raye shouted, prompting Jadeite to drape a comforting arm about her. Gods knew they were all in for it now. Once angered, his lover tended to blaze like a wild fire through a forest.  
  
"She is as we are, though you cannot seem to understand that, Raye. Now please. . . move. She requires care," he said, his voice lacking any emotion, though his eyes burned with a steady flame. When it came to such matters, brother and sister were quite fairly matched, though the look in Darien's eyes told the others that perhaps Raye would regret this encounter very soon.  
  
"After all we've been through. . . all we've overcome, you bring her here. Her! The day walker! What enchantment has she cast upon you, to cause you to abandon you wits? Have you no care for you family, Darien? We. . . WE are your family! Not her! She is nothing! Nothing!" she raged, starting towards the girl with intent to destroy what she perceived as a threat to those she held dear.  
  
Before she could take a step, she was met by the fierce gaze of her brother, his eyes alone stopping her in mid step. Raye saw him pull the girl closer, shielding her from any violence she had intended to inflict upon her.  
  
"And I find it hard to swallow, dear sister," he began, his words dripping malice even as he attempted to keep his composure, "that after I have kept the world at bay, provided everything we have ever had need of. . . that you would dare to stand before me and utter such idiocy. Have you forgotten who I am? What I am?" he demanded, feeling the small body in his embrace shift as the fury built steadily within him.  
  
"You are a fool, Darien, if you think that she will pass over the chance to kill you. Perhaps she is like you. . . but she is nothing like the rest of us! We know our place, accept our fates. And she hates us for that! She hates us, brother! Will you not see that until your blood is spilled by her hands?" she questioned angrily, only then noticing how badly injured the girl in his arms truly appeared.  
  
Blood trailed steadily down her face, crimson standing out boldly against her porcelain skin. Her golden hair was stained cherry in patches, her body now unable to stand on its own. Raye saw her hands, moving slowly up her brothers chest, gripping desperately at the fabric of his shirt as moments ticked by.  
  
Something struck her then, like lightning traveling through her limbs, the sight before her enough to force her rage to die. This girl. . . was indeed in desperate need. Though her hatred ran hotly through her veins, the look in her brother's eyes, darkened to cobalt in anger, told a tale that had yet to be spoken.  
  
Never had he allowed harm to befall them, in all the years they had walked the Earth. They had always trusted his judgment, relying on him to show them the way past all the perils that life tended to lay before them. And now, as he stood before her, she understood why he was behaving so recklessly. That fire. . . it would only glow so brightly for one in any eternity. And she. . . gods, the girl by his side was just that.  
  
Though her mind still protested, her heart ultimately forced her to step aside, violet eyes shining with crimson tears that would never fall. Even she would never dare to interfere with this, for she understood well the feeling of insanity that swept across the soul when confronted with such things as intrigue, possession, lust. . .love.  
  
Raye had been fortunate enough to unite with one of her own race, an immortal that had been able to soothe her battered soul and wash away the guilt upon her heart. She knew how it felt to be made witless by barrage after barrage of emotional onslaught. . . and that knowledge granted her the ability to see what was just before her. Though it was unheard of, perhaps even perilous, she could do nothing but allow her brother to pass, hands clenched at her sides the entire while.  
  
He lifted the nearly unconscious blond fully in his arms, cradling her like a child, her fingers still clinging weakly to the front of his shirt.  
  
"Have it your own way. When she's tearing your throat out, don't expect us to stop her," she muttered coldly, watching as the two disappeared into her brother's room.  
  
"Raye. . . love, do not. . ." Jadeite tried, only to be silenced as she held up a hand.  
  
"I'll hear none of it. If he so wishes this, it shall be, though I will not be forced to approve. I believe that now is the time for rest at any rate. I'll not be caused to lose sleep over the day walker," she proclaimed, emotion still thick in her voice.  
  
Zoisite, who had silently witnessed the entire fiasco, understood that her rage had stemmed from nothing more than her love for her brother, who had indeed been their pillar of strength throughout many trying times. It was to be expected that she would react so.  
  
But, as he took in the sight of his blood brother, the possession he felt for the girl held close to his heart more than obvious, he knew that nothing born of any world would dare to change his mind about her.  
  
He wasn't a man to act without reason, and he had made it apparent without uttering a syllable that her life was now in his hands. Zoisite, being the most sensible of them all, smiled to himself, an all knowing smile. Perhaps this held more gracious possibilities than even he could imagine.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Darien sat her down gently upon the dark sheets of his bed, hands guiding her shoulders down until she was stretched out across the mattress, her eyes still closed and each breath too shallow for his liking.  
  
In truth, she looked like hell, blood flowing from the many cuts and lacerations upon her beautiful face. He pitied her then, for the vicious assumptions everyone made about her. . . for the beautiful soul no one dared to see.  
  
"Such a waste," he muttered, leaving her for a moment to retrieve a few items from the adjoining bathroom. He soon returned with a wet wash cloth in hand, only to find her crystal eyes gazing up at him, full of hurt and confusion.  
  
She looked so helpless lying there, forcing him to fight his body's overwhelming urge to forget his promise and descend upon her like a night predator. So beautiful. . .yet so deadly. Like some poisonous flower awaiting a being foolish enough to attempt to pluck it from it's home.  
  
"So perfect," he breathed, unaware of whether or not she'd heard him speak. She blinked a few times, trying to decipher her whereabouts as his hand stretched towards her.  
  
"Lie still," he instructed gently, and straight away her body shot up from her reclining position upon his bed. In an instant she was crouched upon her feet, though still a bit unsteadily, her hands finding her guns by sheer force of habit.  
  
Darien smiled slightly, his hands upon hers before she was even able to draw the silver demons from their holsters. She was nowhere near her natural capacity, and he was made well aware by the look in her eyes that he would have to convince her to allow him to assist her.  
  
"Tu. . . che cosa vuoi adesso?" she demanded, her eyes wild with a fear he'd not seen in them until that very moment. He could feel her small hands shaking beneath his own, and it disturbed him to think that he would ever cause fear to grace her heart.  
  
(You. . . what do you want now?)  
  
He was touched to hear her speak to him in their native tongue, one he'd gone far too long without hearing. The words still rolled as sweetly off her lips, delicately spoken and yet still laced with the heat than only she could wield.  
  
"I dare not speak of my desires. . . but for the time, all I wish is to help you, fair one. You are in need of my assistance, though you'd rather lie there and bleed to death than admit it," he answered, leaning in closer as his hands closed about hers, drawing them slowly away from her weapons of destruction.  
  
Her body shied away from his touch, though internally protesting the entire action, her eyes locked onto his as she attempted to read what lie within them.  
  
Whether subconscious or not, the longing for his touch upon her skin remained, though she dared not admit it aloud. Darien's eyes seemed to soften as he looked down upon her, attempting to reassure her of his benevolent intentions.  
  
"Non temere, serafino. Non ti succedera nulla. . . lo guiro," he promised softly, his fingers stretching towards her. Habit forced her to draw back, but only a bit, allowing him to inch ever closer as she watched him. Her eyes grew wider as his fingers touched her cheek, caressing it softly, as if he feared harming her should he be any more forceful.  
  
(Have no fear, seraph. You will come to no harm. . . I swear it.)  
  
Her mouth hung open in shock as his hands drew her gun belt from about her waist, his fingers unbuckling each holster from her thighs with a collectiveness that was unparalleled.  
  
"What are you doing?" the blond demanded, stretching for her guns only to have him dangle them just out of her reach.  
  
"You have no need for these at the moment," he told her, managing to sling them under his bed as she gawked at him the entire while. Only then did she realize the ache that plagued her body, her strength having faded considerably due to the loss of blood she'd experienced. Not only that, it seemed, but her heart as well had begun to bleed.  
  
"Be still, sweet half ling. You have many wounds to be tended," he told her. Yet, as he expected, as she had always done, she refused to allow herself any relief.  
  
"Tu traditore," she said darkly, her teeth clenched as both physical and emotional pain struck her all at once, showing her no mercy. She was forced to look away as she saw the hurt appear in his own eyes, which still shown like navy storm clouds in the evening sky.  
  
(You traitor)  
  
"No, fair one. Never I. By now you should realize the reasons for my actions. Had I not taken them, you would have known the consequence," he told her, his hands taking gentle hold of her shoulders as he prepared himself for the hurt to come.  
  
"Is that what happened?" she asked, fighting the damnable tears that were presently welling up in her eyes, anxious to flow but being held back.  
  
"Is that why you abandoned me? To save me?" she nearly snarled, the pain stabbing through her body becoming almost too much to bear.  
  
Memory invaded him, as he sat staring into the eyes that had haunted him for more lifetimes than he could dare to recall. Pain still lingered in their crystal depths. . . pain he had inadvertently caused while trying to do just the opposite.  
  
To this day he was unsure of how or why he had allowed it to carry on for so long. Perhaps at one time it had been his pride that had kept him from seeking her out. Perhaps his own fear.  
  
But now, the reality was so biting that he could not turn away. Not again. . . never again. So complex was the day walker and he wished to dedicate every waking moment to rediscovering each little quirk she possessed.  
  
Though predestined to face one another on opposite sides of the field of battle, it seemed that fate had indeed been deceived. For no matter the obstacles that stood in their paths, twin stars could not be parted, by time. . . by space. . . by their own uncertainties. It was now time. . . far past it in fact, for all truths to come to light, no matter how dreadful they indeed were.  
  
"E stato amore a prima vista, mi angelo," he whispered, pulling her small form against his chest, arms folding about her with a strength that would never fade. He felt the shock flow through her, dissipating quickly as she tried to push him away.  
  
(It was love at first sight, my angel)  
  
But he felt her sorrow, the pain within all too familiar, and he only held her closer, bowing his head over hers as his lips brushed against her golden hair. She trembled like a leaf in the bitter breeze of autumn, and regret for so many years of apathy gnawed away at all that was left of his soul.  
  
"Forgive me, fair one. The gods alone know of the nights I have faced without you. So many years. . . lifetimes without feeling the beating of your heart next to mine. I have no need to lie to you, for I have nothing at all to gain from it, should it mean that I would but lose you again. That I shall not do. Vivo per voi," he told her, breathing in the delicious scent that was hers alone.  
  
(I live for you)  
  
"Non mi tocchi!" she cried, her finger nails digging hard into his back as her own pack of demons broke free, intent on destroying her. She knew that her memories would eventually catch up with her, no matter how far she fled, no matter how slowly time crept by.  
  
(Don't touch me!)  
  
So long she had been to cowardly to face this, and yet she now found herself with no other choice. For in her heart, a truth dwelt that she had not the strength to admit. Without him, she had not been whole. Never had she known loneliness until fate dealt the critical blow, leaving her bitterly contesting all points of sanity.  
  
And she could not turn away, just the way she'd been unable to in so many moments before. He was with her now, his voice like velvet smoothing across her heart, attempting to ease the suffering that ran so deeply within.  
  
She managed to pull back from him slightly, crystal blue eyes filled with crimson tears, a few falling down her already blood stained cheeks as she gazed up at the man who had owned her from the moment they had both been born unto the Earth, so many ages ago.  
  
Looking through the windows of his soul, she saw her own pain reflected ten fold, her heart consumed with the fire that she had long ago thought extinguished. How could this be? She could not allow herself to become lost once again, knowing the severity of the outcome. It was always the same: unfathomable bliss, followed by such devastating heart break that she thought she would never again find any shard of sanity.  
  
No matter what she attempted, it always ended in grief. He was always taken from her, leaving her alone to face the wrath of the world that seemed to have a grudge that would not die. But gods above, how enchanting it was, to have him so near once again. . . to feel the warmth that only he possessed, surrounding her in the only comfort she had ever known to exist. Yet doubt remained, forcing her to question the lunacy that had engulfed her.  
  
"Perche lo avete lasciato. . . Endymion?" she asked, her eyes closing as his hand ran tenderly along her cheek, fingers brushing away the tears of red marring her perfect beauty. He thought he had known the full sting of pain, until witnessing her tears. The sight alone was enough to cause him to curse himself, for the many mistakes he had made in the past.  
  
(Why did you leave me. . . Endymion?)  
  
How could he have hurt her so? Such a perfect creature. . . so true and devoted. . . and he had done naught but drive her away, until he had gone mad because of it.  
  
"Per conservarli dalla morte, mio Serenity. I will never allow it to take you. Siete mine, angelo. Then. . . now. . . forever more," he said clearly, wishing that he could shoulder the full burden of her torment, take away the hurt so wrongly granted her for so very long.  
  
(To save you from death, my Serenity) (You are mine, angel)  
  
Necessity soon stepped in, though there was yet much to be discussed after it had been dealt with.  
  
"Hear me, mio tesoro," he asked, his eyes holding hers as she fought for her composure.  
  
(my treasure)  
  
"You are yet in need. Those wounds shall not clean themselves, nor the sting vanish on it's own. You must be still and allow me to see to them," he informed her gently, his hands now stained red as well from stroking along her cheeks.  
  
It was that crimson demon that had done this. . . kept them apart for far too long. If not for the hunger that burned without mercy, never would he have turned from her, left her without explanation as to why.  
  
But now, as he stood gazing down upon her, the only being ever able to move him to feel, realizing that the hunger she initiated within threw shadow over the need for the nectar of life. . . of death.  
  
Before everything was done, no part of them would be absent of the crimson liquid life that was the bane of them both. But it was no matter to him. Only one thing drove him at the time. . . to care for her, as she had for him so many times before.  
  
He owed her that at the very least, after so many misgivings and unresolved quandaries. Now was the time to set them right, no matter what path his actions or words led him along.  
  
Her eyes took him in, tracing over the lines of his face, the way that accursed hair of the deepest ebony fell into his vision, always prompting her to clear it from his sight with a tender hand. Only this man. . . no other had ever completed her so.  
  
Nor would they ever, she'd realized bitterly, for he indeed was her second half, her completion. Alike in life and haunted by death, she knew that she could not turn away, not as his eyes stared her through, searching for any answer at all as silence descended upon them.  
  
So it was that the golden seraph allowed him to lift her in his arms, her body lying almost lifelessly in his grip as he made his way to the bathroom, not bothering with the lights. His vision, after all, was better suited to the realm of darkness.  
  
With a patience he'd never known himself to possess, the immortal sat her down, his hands moving gently over her, until she stood naked before him, the sight of her was enough to steal his breath despite the gore that covered her form. So long it had been, since he'd been blessed to witness such a sight, his eyes starved and hungrily drinking her in.  
  
He then went about the task of removing his own clothing, her eyes not leaving his the entire while until he too stood presented in his natural glory. So long. Gods, so very long that he wondered if it was all some elaborate, malicious dream intent on taking his mind.  
  
Soon, steam rolled in clouds from the shower behind them, and the immortal drew her in slowly after him, his patient hands guiding her until they both stood, being pelted by the steaming water that fell steadily from above.  
  
His gentleness was unparalleled as he washed the blood from her face, whispering soothing words as she winced from the nagging sting. Still, she tried to hide her pain, biting her lip hard as the ache in her heart did naught to aid in her struggle. He could not help but to admire her courage, his hands taking care not to bring her anymore discomfort than necessary. She was surely in great pain, though he knew it would only upset her further if she allowed it to show.  
  
Their eyes locked once more, flames dancing between them as he read the thoughts swimming through her mind. Serena felt her insides churning, as if her soul were being torn from her forcibly from her body. Never had anyone else ever been able to reduce her to this, and so simply at that. After a moment of being consumed by intense flame, she was able to find her voice.  
  
"Ti penso sempre. Each night that passes is more bitter than the last. . . so empty. So quiet. My heart has not been my own since my eyes fell upon you," she said softly, her voice a bit broken as she spoke.  
  
(I always think of you)  
  
Her eyes were doing very wicked things to him and he was forced to look away for a moment, before his rapidly mounting lust got the better of him. He had made a vow to her after all, and he had every intention to keep it. The immortal would stick to his gentlemanly mannerisms until she gave him permission to do otherwise. The lady of his heart deserved nothing less than just that.  
  
"The pain will vanish soon, fair one," he told her, tilting her chin up gently to meet his gaze, his eyes drawing her into what seemed to be an endless abyss. She would be so content to become lost in those eyes, should her blasted pride ever allow it. But it was an eternal struggle, heart against mind, with no clear winner ever named.  
  
"Perhaps from my body. . . but what of my heart, dark angel? What of my heart?" she wondered, both wishing to flee from the presence of her companion and to allow her harsh thoughts to be eased by his embrace.  
  
His lips ran over each finger as he kissed them one by one, not sparing even her finger tips as her eyes stared him through all the while. It disappointed her in a way, to be unable to find any malice within them.  
  
She cursed his sincerity, as well as her own strong will, which seemed determined to keep her from bearing the contents of her heart. And yet, it was no matter, for she had long ago realized that the being before her was very adept at deciphering her emotions, without a single word passing between them.  
  
"Bevanda da me," he requested, knowing that she would protest but unable to allow her strength to remain so drained from the attack that had been launched upon her.  
  
(Drink from me)  
  
The obstinate streak in her demanded that she push him away, keep him at bay and deny him the pleasure of granting her what he knew she needed most. However, it was a losing battle, attempting to keep herself from being caught up in the depths of his raging eyes. And as desperately as she struggled to mask the emotions flowing through her, he knew her heart. Gods be damned. . . he knew her.  
  
The only sound Serena could hear was her own blood rushing through her veins, her heart beating loudly in her ears. His life force was already melding itself unto hers, and she could feel his power surging through her, like streaks of lightning coursing throughout her limbs. His amazingly dexterous fingers were slowly trailing along her naked skin, just along the column of her neck as she felt her last defenses failing her, the moments ticking slowly by.  
  
There was no use. The man held her in his palm, as he always had, and even if she wished it, there wasn't a damn thing she could do to alter the fact. They were bound by too many unseen threads to be severed, destined to be bitter enemies. . . heart joined lovers through the brutal course of the ages.  
  
No more coherent thoughts came to her, because soon he had offered his wrist, an act of love and selflessness that touched even her jaded soul. After her vicious words, her bitterness and animosity, he still offered all of himself in order to preserve her.  
  
As expected, the obstinate blond pulled back, though his free arm had soon snagged her about the waist, holding her still as his eyes spoke his thoughts. He proffered his wrist once again, determined to see the shine return to the beautiful eyes that were quite capable of warming his heart.  
  
"Lo amate?" he asked, fingers trailing lightly along the small of her back as he awaited a response to his rather bold question.  
  
(Do you love me?)  
  
"What are you trying to do to me? Have we not been through this enough? Do you enjoy my pain? Do enjoy the sound of my heart breaking because of you?" she demanded, unsure whether she would rather put a bullet through his skull or hold him close to what yet remained of her heart.  
  
"How long will you uphold this façade, Serenity? How long? You would deny your own desires, shun your own happiness. . .just to prove a damned point. Let it die. For once in this eternity, I implore you. . . let this madness die. I do not beg, and yet I shall. Anything I must, I shall do," he vowed, his fangs extending against his lips just before he tore into his own flesh, blood rushing quickly from the broken skin and falling to the shower floor, staining the water scarlet as it disappeared down the drain.  
  
"No one would understand! They never have, nor will they ever! And you. . . do you truly expect me to forget? To. . ."  
  
"I expect nothing from you, Serenity. Nothing save for you to admit for once that things of the past cannot be changed. I have accepted myself for what I am. . . for what it is that I have become. But you cannot, you will not, and I know not the reason. I am here! Just before you now, and I shall never again be fool enough to part from you. Let it be enough! Be satisfied!" he nearly shouted, his own emotions exploding forth.  
  
"I want to hate you, Endymion. I want to be the reason for your eternal unrest. I want to hear your screams in the night, when no comfort or peace will find you. . . but I cannot. And you know why. You fucking know," she said angrily, her small hands gripping his forearms tightly as the emotion only grew, begging to be unleashed unto the world.  
  
"Why then? Tell me. . . I want to hear it from your own lips. Tell me why," he asked, his own blood still flowing unchecked, again staining her skin and his.  
  
He saw her jaw clench, her eyes closing as the dam exploded, leaving her with no more rage to unleash. So it was, his eyes boring into her from above, that her voice granted him what he'd longed for lifetimes to hear once again.  
  
"Ti amo," she whispered, hands sliding along his skin, coming to rest upon his cheeks. He turned, lips brushing against her palm as her soft words hit the resting place of his heart.  
  
(I love you)  
  
"Cara mia Endymion. . . ti voglio bene," she said, finally giving in to need and desire, one hand drawing his wrist to her lips. Her tongue lapped slowly at his self inflicted wound, as if in an attempt to mend the damage done on her account.  
  
(My darling Endymion. . . I love you)  
  
His taste was the same as she remembered, the rarest mix of coppery heat, the most delicious, bittersweet flavor in existence. Her body pressed closer, naked skin meshed against naked skin, a lustful haze descending upon her mind.  
  
She shut everything out: the pain, the loss, the emptiness she' grown to know. The lies she'd told others and herself for so long, in a vain attempt to chase away the demons that refused to cease haunting her. All that registered then was the feeling of his body against hers, the beautiful taste of his own liquid life force as it slid hotly down her throat, healing her from within.  
  
So many nights, cold death ever vigilant as she walked the realm of Earth alone, longing for the very being that had taken leave from her sight, carrying with him her heart and half of her soul. Years had run together since, days becoming months becoming centuries. And yet the feeling had yet to fade. The familiarity of his presence remained, one that she had long since realized that she would never be content to live without.  
  
For theirs was a love so deep that it could only be driven by hatred, by an unintentional betrayal that would linger always in shadow. The madness was all consuming, raking across souls and leaving victims in limbo, wondering what atrocities they had committed to deserve such a penance.  
  
Even so, it all melted away like snow under the rays of the garish sun, as her lips broke from tasting his gift of life, before pressing one last kiss to the opened vein, leaving the skin again smoothed over as if no wound had ever been present.  
  
Her eyes lifted, focusing on his face and noting the small smile that graced his lips. The immortal's hand lifted, a delicate finger tracing along the curve of her jaw as he leaned forward, his tongue tasting the corner of her mouth as he removed the last trace of gore from her face.  
  
"Perdonilo, mio angelo. I realize that words will never undo what has been done. But I cannot look into your eyes and speak falsely. We have lived through many a day shrouded in the haze of death. . . I wish to hold you again, Serenity. I wish to be comforted by the beating of your heart. Will you allow it? The future now rests with you," he told her, brushing back a few soaked golden tendrils away from her face.  
  
(Forgive me, my angel)  
  
Hands roamed desperately over randomly charted paths, longing to feel naked flesh beneath. She felt the heat, her skin positively on fire, longing for the achingly gentle caress of the one being alive that could truly satiate her.  
  
Her senses were overwhelming, leaving her facing two totally opposite paths. There, standing wrapped in the arms of the object of her affections, her true strength throughout the ages, fear and doubt could find no place. She knew then that his words held no poisons, that perhaps this time they would indeed find a way.  
  
So many tears, bitter goodbyes in the still of night, with only shadows as her comfort and no one to understand the ache that plagued her. Through all the years she had witnessed, no one had ever been told of the trials her soul had faced. The whisper upon her heart that visited her in dreams and waking nightmares alike.  
  
"I will make no promises, for fear that I may not uphold them. But this night, Endymion. . . this night I will not spend alone. It may take longer than you like. . ."  
  
"No. However long. . . it makes no difference, as long as I have you near, though I deserve it not," he noted softly, hand still stroking along her cheek with the utmost reverence.  
  
"Importa non. Niente importa. Soltanto noi, qualunque possiamo essere. Endymion. . . posso rimanere stasera con voi?" she asked, the soft glow of her eyes drawing him in, erasing all baneful memories that lingered so painfully.  
  
(It matters not. Nothing matters. Only us, whatever we may be. Endymion. . . may I stay with you tonight?)  
  
His lips graced her forehead, like a whisper of the warm breath of a summer's breeze, and he felt her small body shiver in his grasp despite the apparent heat surrounding them.  
  
"Fino a che il mio eternity non termini, il mio amore. La mia base e stata cosi fredda senza voi," he confessed, defying all the urges welling up within in order to draw her away from him a bit.  
  
(Until my eternity comes to an end, my love. My bed has been so cold without you.)  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The room was still, nearly submerged in pitch blackness despite the sun having risen outside. And yet the two occupants were totally unaware of anything save the other, as they sat nearly motionless in the overstuffed chair in the corner.  
  
Perched comfortably upon his lap was the angel, one of her companion's borrowed shirts now gracing her form, sleeves rolled halfway up her forearms and hem hanging to mid thigh, the garment nearly swallowing her in it's embrace.  
  
Her eyes were closed, head resting upon the bare skin of his chest, his hand running absently through her still damp hair as he enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding her warm body close, the beautiful scent of her clouding any rational thoughts he may have been forming.  
  
His gaze lingered, the immortal taking in the sight of her as she sat motionless against him, save for the occasional squeeze her hand gave his own. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to grant her peace, knowing full well that he would take no such care with any other being. No other he had ever known even caused a memory to form in his mind, for his every thought centered about her in some way.  
  
Each passing day only drove him further towards madness, the ache in his heart at last becoming too much for him to bear. And then she had shown herself, an angel shining brightly against the backdrop of night, where he knew she was never meant to belong.  
  
Perhaps she would always fight it, her place in this life, never allowing herself to taste the relief of peace. It would be so like her to do such a thing, for the sake of that blasted pride of hers. He had never known another so prideful, so stuck in their ways as his treasure, who shifted a bit as she reclined against him.  
  
"Do you think me wicked? For turning away?" she asked suddenly, sadness still evident in her voice.  
  
His hand cupped her chin, until she was again drowning in the depths of his eyes, infinite questions still lingering in her own.  
  
"I hold no malice, il mio amore. Though we may be united by pain that we cannot erase, a new future awaits us yet. If you wish to embrace it," he pointed out, his fingers delicately tracing the shape of her lips as he watched the emotions play across her fair face.  
  
(my love)  
  
"That I cannot say. But I do know. . . I've missed this so. I've missed you," she told him, leaning in closer and allowing her lips the privilege of trailing along his neck, causing his bestial nature to call to him, from the chamber in which he kept it painfully locked away. So torturous was this maiden . . .and so worth the game in which he'd been a player for longer than even he could say.  
  
She knew well what effects she had upon him, and thoroughly enjoyed the amusement of seeing him affected so by her actions. In due time, he thought, she would grow tired of her games. And he would be the one to hear her beg for what he knew she desired above all other things.  
  
His wicked musings were interrupted by her voice, saccharine as cane, yet delivering a purely deadly statement.  
  
"One thing, dark angel. If you deceive me. . . my response will not be merciful," she said simply, and he kissed the top of her head in response, despite the harsh simplicity of the words she'd spoken. His lady was complex, fickle to no end and yet absolutely addictive in every way. And he expected nothing less from her.  
  
"Fair enough, seraph. Fair enough," he agreed, lips trailing softly along her cheek as her arms slid about his torso, her warmth engulfing him like a wild fire.  
  
He silently reveled in the feeling of her warm body, as she pressed herself close him, leaving him wishing to the gods above that he could be granted the taste of her once again, if only for a moment. So long it had been since he had been granted such bliss, the feeling of her body writhing against his, being so lost within her that he renounced any grip he'd every had on reality.  
  
The raven haired immortal could not keep himself from admiring her delicious form as she lay dozing against him, head bowed against his chest, breaths beating softly against his skin. The seraph possessed some very dangerous, very intoxicating curves, causing him to struggle torturously to keep his hands from exploring.  
  
Soon. He forced himself to remain content by the mere act of holding her close, where he knew that the world could not lay eyes of hatred upon her. Where she would be cherished as she so deserved.  
  
He contentedly nuzzled her hair, breathing in the sweet, rosy scent of her. Absently he wondered how many others had experienced the same pleasure in their ludicrous sabbatical from one another.  
  
It mattered not, he mused, for he knew one thing to be true: no other man had ever possessed her heart, and that alone quelled the vicious possessiveness that roared to life, as he thought of her sharing herself with any other than himself.  
  
No, it mattered not, in this world of uncertainty, for the past was finally facing a long awaited death. He would be sure that it would be swift, for it had been far too long that they had been engaged in this battle. This senseless conflict that had lost it's meaning after so long.  
  
Now that he had found her, heard her precious lips speak the words he'd so longed to hear, he would make her see. He would damn the gods for the thousandth time, curse all others in existence and seal his own fate in order to keep her, this time for good. For eternity without her was a fate much worth than death, no matter the distraction he'd attempted to chase her from his thoughts.  
  
She was too much a part of him. Nothing would change it. . . not even the seraph herself, who had denied everything swimming through the depths of her soul in a vain attempt to ease the suffering born from their past misery.  
  
But no matter. Time was something that he did have, no matter how maddening things would become. And they would. They always did.  
  
Gazing down at his precious consort, he felt the curious pang in his heart, the same that had been absent all the years they had been apart. It was comforting to know that she yet affected him so. . . as no other ever would.  
  
He knew that the others would be at rest, his sister most likely dreaming of berating him. That woman was at times too damned impossible to handle, and he was quite aware of how bothersome it would be to convince her and the others to leave his lady be.  
  
They had no idea of the reasons behind his madness. He had never mentioned such things to his blood relations, for even they would not understand. She was still an enemy in their eyes, after all.  
  
The fact remained, however, that should they attempt to damage her, his vengeance would be ruthless. Gods help them, he thought, should they ignore him, for though they were his family, he would not allow anyone to bring her any harm. He had done enough of that himself to last several lifetimes.  
  
His head bowed, cheek resting against the top of her head as sleep tugged at him, beckoning him towards it's peaceful realm. Hand running absently along her bared thigh, Endymion allowed his eyes to close, the incomparable scent of his companion enveloping him in a comforting cloud of familiarity.  
  
Ordinarily, sleep was a bitter enemy, dreams relentless and cold darkness ruthless as it consumed him. But this. . . this was truly bliss, so that he was intent on not depreciating it with thoughts of regret. Though tomorrow was another dawn, he would face it, no matter the cost. For pain was inconsequential after living through so much.  
  
"Come sei bella, mio angelo. Mio tesoro. Mio anima. Non posso vivere senza voi dal mio lato. Li amero per sempre. Per favore perdonilo," he whispered against her hair, just as the shadows consumed him. Though for once in longer than anyone could know, they held no power over him.  
  
(How beautiful you are, my angel. My treasure. My soul. I cannot live without you by my side. I'll love you forever. Please forgive me.)  
  
**************************************************************************** ********************************************************************  
  
Ok, that's it for now. I know this was kind of a COMPLETE mind trip, but I hoped you like it anyway! And remember. . . Chapter 1 went through a re- write so this would all make (some kind of) sense. Chapter 3 will lift the haze, I promise! I just got a new idea, and decided to fix it now before the story went too far to change it. Sorry for being fickle, but I like things better this way. . . oh, and let me know if the *Italian speak* made it better or just got on your nerves. . . I liked it. . .  
  
And yeah, the translations may not be perfect. . .I got them from a translation sight, so if you're fluent in Italian and find them to be totally ridiculous, do forgive me, because I make no claim at being so myself. It's just a beautiful language. . . very *sensual*, so that's why I chose to use it. By the way. . . did it work or no? ^_^  
  
Chapter 3 Under Edit. . . thanx to everyone for their suggestions!  
  
*Cosmic Moon Baby* 


	3. Interlude A

Disclaimer states that: I, in no way, in any life, own Sailor Moon. No, Naoko Takeuchi/Kodansha and Toei Animation happen to possess those rights.  
  
With that outta' the way, now I'll say that I realize that this story is wacky. I want it to mess with minds, ya' know??!!! You're about to experience a very long flashback, and with any hope, it will explain the issues between Serenity and Endymion, and why they act so damn strangely towards one another.  
  
This fic probably won't be an epic or anything, because that would just be irritating in this case. It's just about this love, this perfectly insane love that is absolutely impossible, and yet cannot be stopped. You know. . . the kind we all obsess over and such? Oh, wait. . . is that just ME??  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
AN: By the way, in case you all were wondering what's taking me so bloody long to update my fics, I've had a death in the family, and things have been kinda', um. . .bad since. So, I'm sorry that it's taking so long, but I'm trying to give you something to satiate you a tad until I regain a bit of inspiration here. As always, let me know what you think of this interlude. It's what I've got for now. . .  
  
************************************************************************  
  
As before. . .ALL TRANSLATIONS ARE BELOW THE PARAGRAPHS IN WHICH  
  
THEY APPEAR  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Seraphs of Shadow  
  
Interlude: Hallucinations of the Soldier  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Not a sound filtered into her ears as Serenity's blond head rose cautiously, the events of the past several hours slowly registering in her mind.  
  
Though her body should've ached, from the force of the hateful blows she had been dealt, she was rather pleased to find that no ill effects lingered. It seemed that her companion had been able to repair the damage done without much effort in the least. . .something he had indeed always been adept at doing.  
  
Her rather parched lips curved into a somewhat downhearted smile, eyes tracing over the form of the man whose lap she sat comfortably upon. Endymion, still traversing the land of dreams, still the most beautifully intriguing creature she had yet to happen upon in any life.  
  
Yes, so long it had been, since Serenity had last granted herself such a guilty pleasure. Far too long she had run, from the things which destiny had granted her so many long years since passed.  
  
And she knew not why, for her own misgivings had also led them to this place, this point of much needed decision. Anger still bellowed its desire to lash out, to cripple him in its grasp, though she held it firmly at bay, knowing that her fury never granted any solid form of peace to her in the least.  
  
The ache in her heart remained still, as she maneuvered herself closer to the warmth of her consort's body, clearly able to make out the pulse of un- life beating throughout. So beautiful he was in sleep, the innocence of so many blooming children seeming to radiate from him.  
  
One hand touched his cheek, fingers running softly along the curve of jaw she had firmly committed to memory. Fingertips trailed on, across slightly parted lips, flame licking ever higher in the pit of her stomach as she remembered the feeling of perfect euphoria, the countless times she had found herself lost in his embrace, totally devastated by his lips as they positively ravaged her own. . .her body in flames as his ungodly hands wreaked havoc across her naked skin.  
  
Serenity closed her eyes, the torrent of emotions that swept mercilessly through her a bit too much to bear all at once. The desire was there, just as it had always been, though until this very moment, she had savagely denied it, denied herself. . .denied Endymion what she could never admit was yet alive and well within. But now, as her eyes took all of him in, memory was ruthless as it assaulted her senses, the pain and pleasure nearly enough to rip her apart.  
  
Not a dream. . .no, it had indeed been theirs. Their shattered reality, that she so longed to repair. Even after the passage of time, it lingered vividly still, each detail and emotion, as if it were only yesterday. Perhaps it were, she mused, for time had an ugly tendency to run together, leaving many victims in its wake.  
  
"Endymion," she whispered, framing his face in her hands as he stirred, though still groggy from sleep.  
  
"Serenity?" he asked, a bit taken aback to note that she was sitting astride him, her delicate hands cradling his face between them with the utmost care.  
  
The sight of his eternal lady met him, so fresh and new, like a newborn fawn to his starving sight. The odd pang within his chest soon nagged at him once more, though he paid it no mind, for his hands were already stretching forth, the need to touch the most perfect of all possessions becoming quite desperate.  
  
Crystal blue eyes watched him intently, half lidded both from sleep and from the amazing effects of the immortal's hands as they ran along her lightly clothed form.  
  
Recollections of so many forgotten days came then to him as well, and he felt the emotion radiating from her into his own body. Again she had allowed them to consume her, though this time, he felt not only resentment. . .but a great longing, a genuine bliss assaulting him as well.  
  
"You remember, micio mio," he said, more of a statement than a question as it flowed from his lips.  
  
(my kitten)  
  
"I have yet to forget. Perhaps that is what has kept me on the move for so long. . .the fear of losing it all once again. . .of losing you," Serenity all but whispered, causing her companion to groan audibly as her lips touched his neck, just beneath his jaw.  
  
His eyes closed, an automatic response to the glorious feeling of her tongue, lapping leisurely at his skin and completely erasing his every notion to hold fast to his vows and promises.  
  
He knew himself quite well. . .knew that he could not ignore the feral beast within, longing to be unleashed. Longing to claim this creature, who had never been quite as innocent as the rest of the world had assumed her to be.  
  
"Never have you lost me, Serenity. Nor will you ever," he breathed gruffly, his hands sliding along the bare skin of her thighs, feeling her muscles tense beneath his palms.  
  
Further they traveled, slipping with maddening slowness beneath the hem of his borrowed shirt, along the beautiful curve of her hips, his head tilting to the side as her teeth began nipping along his neck, sharply enough to cause anyone else to wince from the divine torture she was inflicting.  
  
Small hands journeyed down the panes of his chest, over the heart thumping madly within, the hunger as ancient as gods themselves growing steadily within the immortals, both of whom were becoming quite witless by the lustful haze which was so rapidly engulfing them.  
  
"Control. . .has no meaning in your presence, quello piccolo," he breathed somewhat brokenly, his strong hands moving further still beneath her shirt, along the faultless curvatures of her breasts, which seemed to fit his hands so divinely well.  
  
(little one)  
  
Endymion felt her body, shivering beneath his touch, only urging his hands to explore her delicate form more thoroughly. He had longed to feel her, hear her sweet voice for so long. . .it all seemed to be just another vivid dream, such as those that had plagued him the entire while they had been apart. Apart and yet bound. . .joined by so many unspoken bonds.  
  
"Nor should it ever, cara mia. I remember it all so well. So very well," she said softly, her body arching into his hands, as she relished in the all consuming heat that only he could ignite.  
  
(my darling)  
  
"As do I, beloved. Have your dreams haunted you these lonely years? Called to you in the darkness?" he whispered, drawing her nearer still as his teeth nipped at her earlobe, sending shivers dancing along her spine.  
  
"You. . .you have haunted my days, my nights. . .my entire existence, from the day I first came upon you. From that day forth, I have thought of you. . .dreamt of you. Ached for you," she whispered, her words cutting into the depths of his aching heart.  
  
"I know the feeling well, il mio amore, for you have given me no peace since last we parted. I too remember that day. Etched into my heart it shall forever remain," he told her, his body on fire in response to the feeling of her own lithe form pressed tightly against his.  
  
(my love)  
  
Orbs of blue locked with one another, Serenity found herself feeling totally stripped of the defenses she had worked so very hard to hide behind. His eyes, so dark with the desire she knew all too well, so familiar as they stared her through. It was then that she knew. . .wicked destiny would not win. Not this time.  
  
"Endymion. . .baciami," she whispered, her lips a mere breath from his own as she made her soft request.  
  
(kiss me)  
  
Her gasp died in his mouth, his lips claiming hers with fervor as the memories assaulted them both: memories of dreadful scars, kind words spoken softly, fistfuls of sheets and ungodly cries of pleasure in the still of blackest night.  
  
Gentle caresses and a warm embrace, the cage of safety always longed for and yet never truly known until that fateful encounter, which had scarred both of their lives forever. And the madness that had consumed them, in attempt to destroy the bliss they had both so deserved.  
  
Everything, born of that day. . .the day neither would forget, nor begin to recover from.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Long since had the sounds of battle died, the world once again blessed with an almost deafening silence, save the sound of leaves rustling in the warm breeze of the dying day of late summer.  
  
The garish sun above, now hanging low in the sky, like some ripe peach waiting to be plucked from its home, bathed the face of the Earth in its final rays, an orange glow cast over all.  
  
The meadow, a formerly peaceful refuge, was now witness to a sorrowful sight indeed. After many miles of agonizing travel, from the blood stained grounds of battle to the west, a lone figure could be seen, dragging himself though the knee high grasses with much difficultly, sword in hand still despite the ebb of combat.  
  
The armor that had never seemed to faze him now seemed to bog him down, the pain racing throughout his body so intense that the soldier was now beginning to feel a bit numb, fatigue eating harshly away at him with each unsteady step he took.  
  
The battle had been devastating, the enemy forces having have launched an ambush upon his already combat weakened forces. Too long had they been without food, adequate sleep, or any tolerable conditions in the least.  
  
So they had been totally off guard, dawn having just broken as the much larger battalion descended upon their crude encampment, leaving his brothers in arms and himself struggling for their very lives.  
  
Long into the day the battle had waged, bodies falling lifelessly to the ground, which had soon become stained red from the blood, seeping from the mortal wounds inflicted by so many merciless blades.  
  
Their captain had been felled weeks ago, the higher ranking officers being picked off as well, until only the youngest, yet the most determined men had remained. In a short time, they had all been changed, been forced to bare witness to savagery that none of them had ever thought to imagine.  
  
Combat was ruthless, leaving no one fool enough to trust another alive to make the same such mistake twice. This war seemed endless, a new threat showing itself with each passing day, leaving no time to recover from the last melee. They had been weak, many already staring into the face of death, as the horn of battle had sounded, setting the latest fray into motion.  
  
The man had fought hard, as he always had, cutting down each adversary with a cry of rage, of pure anguish, racing forth from his painfully raw throat. His blade stained red from hilt to tip, the soldier had become lost in battle, his only intent to destroy those who wished to take his own life, before they could be granted the chance.  
  
So it was, as he thrust his blade deeply into the gut of an oncoming foe, that fate was set in motion, a hideous pain tearing through his side as his voice raged through the air around him. He felt the cold steel, seeming to burn as it slashed through muscle, a pain so intense that he was sure he would soon know well the grim face of Death.  
  
He felt the pressure against his ribs, seeming to jar his entire being as the blade was pulled from his body, causing him to fall forward, his body landing heavily upon the unforgiving ground below.  
  
Agony assaulted him quickly, his breath catching in his throat as he felt his body shutting down, the battle slowly dissipating about the fallen form of the man, blood stained sword still held loosely in his hand as his sapphire eyes slit shut, the pain of the wound he'd been dealt soon taking total control.  
  
Swords clashed all around him, soon muffling to nothingness in his ears as the world grew darker and darker, his breath impossibly shallow as he prepared for his last. Anger still raged, though it now mattered not, for no revenge could be his after he left this life. This life of constant conflict and bloodshed, that he had been ultimately defeated by.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Some time later, a chance miracle allowed his eyes opened once more, only to reveal that he was alone, surrounded only by the bodies felled in battle. His own brothers in arms had abandoned him as well, not a living soul lingering upon the bloodstained battleground. They'd left him for dead, he resolved, as he attempted to stir.  
  
The devastating ache in his side forced him to remain still, though at long last, with gritted teeth and a shout of agony, the wounded man forced himself to his feet, steadying himself with the point of his blade buried firmly in the ground before him.  
  
He noted that the sun was again high in the sky, alerting him of the passage of time whilst he had been unconscious upon the crimson ground below. The fine art of survival took over, leading him blindly through the surrounding trees. He knew that he required shelter, water. . .some treatment for the surely festering wound he'd been dealt.  
  
Though knowing not how long he traveled, stumbling painfully with each agonizing step he dared to take, the soldier came at last to a lonely meadow, stretching far as his naked eye could see, reaching the base of a peak in the near distance.  
  
In reality, days had passed, days without any respite from the hunger, the thirst, the pain which threatened to be his undoing. Blood now stained his entire uniform jacket, though he dared not to attempt to remove it, for he knew that the constricting garment had probably saved him from bleeding to death thus far.  
  
The man spotted a rather large willow tree, not far from where he presently stood, wobbling rather precariously as he attempted to use his sword as a makeshift walking stick. His steps were becoming more lethargic, the abuse he had recently endured beginning to take its final toll. Much longer, and he knew his life would end, in a most unpleasant fashion indeed.  
  
Body craving rest and mind beginning to shut down, he made his way to the outstretched embrace of the fronds of the willow tree, biting hard upon the inside of his jaw as he attempted to lie in the shade of it without causing himself undo pain.  
  
His plan was useless, however, as fire shot through him, excruciating enough to force him into the land of dreams once more, where he finally welcomed Death, longing for it to take him from the grasp of agony that he now found himself trapped within. Darkness overtook him, like the ebony grip of night, though no stars dared dot this horizon.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Nothingness. Pure darkness and nothing more. . .  
  
Until a tiny light sparked in the far corner of his mind, causing his body to stir ever so slightly, though unaware of the action.  
  
The flash shone once more, then a third time, until the thump of a weak heart beat could be felt within.  
  
Slowly, cautiously, ocean blue eyes opened, only to be blinded by the sight before them, a light so dazzling that his arm, feeling fused to the ground by gravity, moved instinctively to cover his sensitive sight.  
  
Gradually the light faded, his vision carefully falling upon the sight before him, unlike any he had ever seen.  
  
A few paces away, a tiny figure clad in white stood, unmoving as he stared, caution and the ways of battle still flowing hotly through him, just as the nagging pain that refused to let him be.  
  
"Who goes there?" he called, with all the strength he had yet remaining. His hand attempted to take hold of his sword, though his grip soon yielded a fallen blade.  
  
The hooded figure stepped closer, though he was helpless to do naught but stare, as two hands gently pushed the snow white covering back, revealing the most beautiful creature he had yet to witness.  
  
Impossibly long, soft golden hair framed her face, swaying behind her in flowing twin pigtails as she stepped cautiously nearer, each step dainty and light.  
  
"Sono minaccia a voi," her voice returned, sliding like silk across his soul. Only such a soothing voice would emerge from such a gorgeous girl, he mused, despite the accursed ache plaguing his entire body.  
  
(I am no threat to you.)  
  
His eyes watched her approach, the pain momentarily forgotten as he took in the sight of her, such beauty unknown to his vision.  
  
She knelt just beside his broken form, her hands sweeping her cloak aside as her knees touched the ground softly, concern written clearly across her fair face.  
  
The soldier found himself drowning in the bluest eyes he had ever seen, so soft and gentle, fathomless as they assessed him, her blond brows soon furrowing in distress.  
  
Her flaxen hair had fallen from behind her shoulder, the rogue tendrils resting upon the stark contrast of his stained black uniform as her hand reached out, clearing his own ebony hair from his somewhat blurry vision.  
  
He was made quite speechless by the sight of her, only watching as her hands then moved to his side, hesitating as they approached the grotesquely bloodstained hole torn though both fabric and flesh.  
  
"Sono nel regno del cielo? Siete un angelo?" he asked hoarsely, finally able to articulate a bit of speech.  
  
(Am I in the realm of the heavens? Are you an angel?)  
  
The nymph seemed to blush slightly at his words, though still intent on discovering the reason behind the presence of so much blood staining the man before her.  
  
"I merely tend to those in need, good sir," she replied gently, managing at last to pull the two blood soaked layers of clothing away from his body.  
  
His teeth clenched and he held back a growl as her blue eyes grew wide, one hand flying to her lips as she herself struggled to hold back her voice. A gaping hole met her sight, the wound caked in a crimson so dark that it appeared black.  
  
The gash was inflamed, that much she could easily tell, and much to her dismay, she noted that her action had caused it to again begin to bleed, prompting her to tear off strips of her own dress, pressing the fabric against his side in order to keep the blood loss to a minimum.  
  
The man looked positively drained of life as it was, and she knew that any more stress on the injury would only land him in the arms of death. And that, she would not allow.  
  
"I dii sopra. . .queste ferrite sono profendi," she uttered gravely, watching with concern as the white cloth in her hands quickly turned red. The man watched her still, his eyes clouded, causing her heart to curiously pain her within her chest.  
  
(Gods above. . .these wounds are deep.)  
  
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice sounding tired as it reached her ears. So weak he was, in need of great care. Poor man, she thought, to have been left to die. And for what? From the looks of him, this man was no stranger to battle, and yet all his best intentions had been overlooked.  
  
"Dovete venire con me. Il pericolo rimane qui," she insisted, ignoring his question entirely as her eyes broke from his form, studying the outlying trees intently. The sun was fading far too quickly for her liking, for she knew what dangers lurked after darkness fell, none of which she wished to face. . .especially with this man being in such a helpless condition.  
  
(You must come with me. Danger remains here.)  
  
"Bella!" she called rather loudly, as her hands closed about the hilt of his bloodied sword. With a grimace she managed to sheath the deadly blade, her hands both stained crimson by the time the subject of her summoning appeared.  
  
The huge dapple grey draft horse approached carefully, her massive muzzle bumping the elbow of her young mistress as she bowed her head over the body of the soldier. Bella too, it seemed, realized the severity of the situation.  
  
Wounded man watching in delusional amazement, the huge beast lowered herself carefully to the ground, the angel in no disguise moving to help him rise himself. His words flowed without his consent, sounding immensely bitter upon his tongue.  
  
"Lascilo e! La morte e troppo vicino affinche interferisca," he growled harshly, attempting to jerk his arm from her grasp. However, he only succeeded in causing more pain to find him, as well as angering the girl that was so intent on keeping him in tact, without any reason at all.  
  
(Leave me be! Death is too near for you to interfere.)  
  
A frown touched her face, her crystal eyes burning into his with what he swore was an icy flame. Perhaps he indeed should've kept silent and allowed her to aid him as she so wished.  
  
"Arresti la vostra discussione! Non sono uno per permettere che la morte vinca," she said, with such a calm fury that he knew better than to protest any further. He realized then that if he refused to go willingly, she would but force his compliance, without his consent in the least.  
  
(Stop your arguing! I am not one to allow death to win.)  
  
With much effort and strain, the diminutive girl managed to steady him as best she was able, maneuvering him as gently as possible towards the patiently waiting mare, who knelt still by the side of her mistress.  
  
The man groaned in pain as he slid himself across the animal's broad back, until his legs dangled at long last along either side. His head resting upon the great beast's neck, he was vaguely aware of the feeling of his savior as she too mounted, the horse then rising to stand as her arms went about him, keeping him steady as his body swayed to and fro.  
  
Her grip remained unwavering as they rode in silence, the swaying of the massive beast enough to both sicken the man and lull him into a pleasant trance, though the ache of his body remained in full force. However, the feeling of those delicate arms about his shoulders, valiantly attempting to keep him steady as they traversed the tall grasses of the meadow, was enough to ease the sting a bit.  
  
The peak in the distance became ever nearer, until at long last they were again surrounded by dense hardwoods and conifers, the foliage seeming to reach out to embrace them as darkness nipped dangerously at their heels.  
  
His eyes remained closed, the sounds of heavy hooves meeting the ground, his own shallow breathing and the echoes of the creatures of dusk swimming all about him. Still the warmth of her remained at his back, a comforting feeling indeed, the first bit of calm he'd known since the days of his childhood.  
  
As the last trace of daylight yielded to the ebony of night, faint light appeared in view, becoming brighter still as they continued forward. Soon, a small cottage appeared, shielded on three sides by walls of moss covered rock that rose to the height of ten men at very least. A somewhat narrow passage led through the densely covered terrain, opening up into the clearing in which the small structure lie.  
  
To either side was a tall fence, rising to nearly the height of the building itself on both sides, meeting the unyielding faces of granite to form a rather protected refuge indeed.  
  
As the passage widened, he was aware of the second rider dismounting, though he dared not attempt to discover the reason behind it. His aches and pains were more searing than ever, and he thought it not worth the agony to put his curiosity at ease.  
  
The girl moved quickly, pulling the massive gate shut and latching it firmly, sealing off the only entrance to her home to ensure a bit of protection from the evils that yet lurked in the night. Not bothering to go to the trouble of jarring the wounded man once again, she put a hand beneath Bella's chin, the horse obediently following her mistress towards the cottage, which was lit cheerfully by several candles sitting here and there within.  
  
They came to a stop just in front of the door, and the girl soon found it to be a beastly struggle to ease her newly acquired burden to the ground, as she attempted not to aggravate his injuries any further.  
  
It was all she could manage, to shoulder the weight of him, broken armor included as she led him inside, one arm about his waist and the other holding his own firmly about her neck. They struggled in tandem, finally managing to step through the door, which she shut rather loudly behind them with a mighty kick.  
  
Another journey was soon theirs, the humble bed in the corner seeming miles away instead of the actual few paces. Though there was more space above in the loft, the girl had no intention of attempting to maneuver him up the ladder, knowing full well that the poor man would pass out before she managed to lay him down to inspect his wounds thoroughly.  
  
He groaned loudly as she helped him to lay flat upon her sheets, not caring that they too were soon stained red in his wake. She wasted no time in gathering the necessities required to dress his wounds, dashing about the room in bare feet as she retrieved the basin of water sitting on the table across the room.  
  
Placing it just next the bed, she then flew to gather several bunches of herbs hanging inverted from pegs upon the wall, snagging a small mortar and pestle with her free hand before likewise depositing the newly acquired items upon the table.  
  
Lastly, her hands sought out a few clean rags from the cabinet near the side window, along with a small jar of salve saved for just such occasions as this.  
  
As she turned back to her bed, she noticed how pitiful the man truly appeared, his body writhing painfully upon her sheets, his chest heaving with breaths that she knew to be simply agonizing to attempt.  
  
Her heart pained her greatly, seeing him in such anguish. She knew only that she would do anything within her power in order to preserve his life, the consequence of such a thing never crossing her thoughts.  
  
It was simply in her blood, to give to others in need, as had been the case with her mother. She could not have turned away from this man, as he lay dying beneath the shade of the willow tree in the meadow below, alone and in agony that none should ever have need to experience.  
  
Odd thoughts assaulted her at last, as her fingers went about the task of ridding him of his sword belt, gently pulling it away from him even as his fingers attempted to close about the scabbard. She managed to wrench it from him, tossing the vicious demon across the room with a thud.  
  
"Sia tranquillo," she ordered gently, her shaking fingers then proceeding to unclasp the stubborn buttons of his uniform.  
  
(Be still.)  
  
"Why are you doing this? Are you not afraid?" he wondered, nearly in a complete daze as he watched her hands sweep over him.  
  
"I fear nothing of this world," she assured him, managing to carefully rid him of his jacket before likewise tossing it into oblivion across the room. She would worry herself with tidying up her cozy dwelling at a later time. For now, she had a half dead soldier to attend to.  
  
He would've smiled at her comment, though it pained him a bit too much at the time.  
  
"Do forgive me, but this shirt has met its end," she informed him, swiftly producing a small dagger from its sheath, which was strapped upon her thigh. She carefully cut the garment away, until he lay, bare from the waist up.  
  
Tears formed in her eyes as she witnessed the full extent of his monstrous wounds, though she refused to allow them to take control. There was much to be done, and little time in which to accomplish it.  
  
With all the strength she could conjure, her hands cleared away the previous scraps of cloth she had used for a compress, before dunking a fresh piece in the water by her side, beginning to cleanse the beastly gash as gently as she was able.  
  
His face contorted into a mask of pain, though she could do naught but utter soothing words to him, as her skilled hands continued to wash away the gore which plagued him.  
  
The wound was deep, though she knew not whether he had suffered any injuries to the vital organs that lie within. With any fortune in the least, she would yet be able to save this man, who she had happened upon by such chance.  
  
She managed to produce a mixture without any difficulty, to ward off infection and to aid in the healing of his battle scarred body, her fingers smoothing the salve onto the wound carefully, her heart sounding in her ears the entire while.  
  
At last she went about the task of dressing his injury, winding strips of fabric about his torso and tying them gently, cautious not to inhibit any circulation that would aid in the healing of his badly battered body.  
  
After washing her hands thoroughly, the blond realized only then that she still wore her cloak, which was by then stained crimson here and there from the blood of the man who lay dazed upon her likewise stained sheets.  
  
She removed it with a sigh, not bothering to place it upon its usual hook on the back of the door. It too was tossed aside, as her attention focused again on the stranger who lay in her bed.  
  
Strange, how she should take in such a being, obviously one of great power and strength. She would have need to send him on his way as soon as he was able to walk, for when fully recovered, she had no inkling as to how his demeanor would change. He was a man, after all, and her mother had taught her well. She was no fool, nor would she be taken for one under any circumstance.  
  
The girl moved to sit upon the mattress, her palm resting upon his forehead as his eyes watched her the entire while. A frown touched her lips as she noticed the fever raging within him. He was on fire, though she knew not why she was so surprised.  
  
"You have lost a great deal of blood, soldier, though it matters not. This fever will drive you to the furthest reaches of madness, but it shall not take you. I am Death's greatest adversary," she assured him, his eyes closing as he cherished the tiny bit of relief of the cold cloth soon pressed against his forehead by amazingly gentle hands.  
  
"Gli angeli hanno la necessita di essere chiamata?" he managed hoarsely, his hand longing to touch the splendor of her face, to assure himself that she were indeed real, and not just another teasing hallucination sent to drive him mad.  
  
(Do angels have the need to be named?)  
  
His eyes were again upon her, and she felt as if her very soul were being picked apart, her heart suddenly pounding against her ribcage with amazing force.  
  
"Cosi volete sentirli?" she asked gently, still bathing his face in attempt to give him a tiny bit of comfort despite his current predicament.  
  
(You so desire to hear it?)  
  
"Posso," he replied, the ache in his side slowly being chased away by the sight of the beautiful girl, who seemed so intent on caring for his injuries.  
  
(I may.)  
  
The diminutive girl reflected for a short time, her hand clenching a bit more tightly about the cloth which yet rested upon his feverish brow. Her reply came without her consent, leaving her cursing herself for her lack of control.  
  
"Serenity. My name, soldier. . .is Serenity," she told him, his half lidded eyes still attempting to keep the perfect sight of her focused, though fatigue and fever were biting harshly, leaving him drained in much need of the soft embrace of sleep.  
  
She dared not ask to hear the same from him, knowing it to be hard enough a task to merely remain conscious under such horrid conditions. Serenity knew full well that had she not happened upon this man as she had, Death would most assuredly have whisked him away, to the silent darkness that awaited his coming.  
  
Pride of her accomplishment rose within, her heart warming to think that she alone had been responsible for the preservation of this man's life. Though marred by injury and the early ravages of sickness, something about the stranger had positively enthralled the solitary girl, who had not seen a soul for countless days, until hapless chance led her path to where he lay, near death beneath the fronds of the willow tree in the center of the lower meadow, which she had grown quite fond of as a child.  
  
As night wore on, her eyelids grew heavy, though she refused to allow her body to shut down, for fear of leaving her patient unguarded during the harshest hours of darkness, those he had yet to face.  
  
He lay still as Death, save for the occasional rise and fall of his chest with each precious breath he took. From her perch on the mattress next him, Serenity curiously found her hand, working of its own accord, coming to rest upon the chamber of his heart, which beat steadily within his chest, thumping rhythmically beneath her hand.  
  
A beautiful sensation, she thought, beginning to doubt the musings of her own mind on account of the battle ravaged newcomer. Why on Earth would such random thoughts be bombarding her? It wasn't as if she knew this man, who seemed nothing but masculine grace and beauty beneath the mask of agony he had worn earlier.  
  
In sleep, she thought him to resemble some fallen being from above, ebony hair falling across his forehead, long, dark lashes now hiding twin orbs which she had noted to be a most startling shade of cobalt, though clouded by misery upon first glance.  
  
But no, by morning, she determined, they would be cleared. For she had been taught the ways of the healer, by her mother who had shown her well. Though she was now alone, Serenity was no novice in the ways of healing, and as devastating an injury as he had sustained, the girl was determined to see him through, despite the nagging in the back of her mind to leave him to his fate. Something about him, it seemed, was worth preserving.  
  
As her limbs began cramping up from being held in the same position for so long, Serenity carefully maneuvered herself forward, resting her back upon the headboard and stretching her legs out alongside the still sleeping soldier, who seemed fairly stable as he continued to dream.  
  
Her small hands hesitated for a moment, before stretching forth, her fingers sliding through the ebony silk of his hair gently, an odd sensation flooding the pit of her stomach as her eyes trailed over him. So peaceful. How could such a being truly be a slayer? A man that lived only to survive to witness the next dawn?  
  
The thoughts presently occupying her mind began troubling her, prompting the girl to close her eyes in attempt to clear them entirely. For the first time since she had found him, she noticed the exhaustion creeping devilishly throughout her body, her eyelids fighting the force of the sudden increase in gravity around her.  
  
With the last bit of strength she could manage, she maneuvered his dark head into her lap, legs stretched on either side of his form as she gazed down upon his face one last time, a tiny smile curving upon her lips. Beautiful beast.  
  
Her hands, a bit cautious though far too curious to remain still, smoothed along his warm cheeks, in attempt to sooth both the soldier and herself, though he was still oblivious to the world around him.  
  
Candle flames burning low, Serenity at last allowed herself a bit of rest, her head tilting back against the headboard as well. Soon, her body had shut down, sleep consuming her in just the manner as it had taken the soldier.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
So soft was the embrace of the realm of dreams, where he wandered aimlessly for an unknown amount of time, until the ache of his battered body roused him without bothering to show any mercy in the least.  
  
Slowly, his eyes blinked, once, twice, before finally focusing on his surroundings, which were foreign to say the very least. Never could he recall witnessing such a place as that in which he found himself occupying, though the painful ache of his wounds soon commandeered his full attentions.  
  
In a vain attempt to rise, the soldier groaned audibly in agony, surrendering willingly to his bodie's urges to remain perfectly still, where the pain would not find him so easily.  
  
Even still, as he lay in a near daze upon the bed in which he was sure he had yet to occupy until that very moment, he suddenly came to realize that he was not alone. For on either side of his body he found a bared leg, stretching along, feet resting lightly next his hips. Confusion assaulted him, though he found it rather difficult to compose his thoughts after the realization of finding himself in a strange place with someone he had no knowledge of at all.  
  
Ever so carefully, his head tilted back, until his eyes fell upon a most gracious sight indeed. Memory flooded his mind then, of the day since past. . .of the battle his body had succumbed to.  
  
He had been sure that the grim arms of Death would soon cradle him, and yet, in the midst of the devastation, the scent of blood still thick in his lungs, the soldier had been found, and by an angel, none the less. The same in fact that occupied the bed as well, cradling his head in her hands as she dozed silently against the headboard.  
  
From his precarious position, he found himself cursing silently, both from the incomplete view he actually had of her, and from the horrid crick in his neck he was experiencing from attempting to remedy that very problem.  
  
So it was, as he attempted to take all of her in, that the beautiful creature stirred, eyes opening slowly as she looked about, light lashes fluttering as she attempted to chase away all traces of slumber.  
  
It was the eyes, a shade of blue unlike anything he'd ever witnessed, which again managed to cause an odd pang to burden his chest. . .one which had naught to do with the nearly fatal wounds he'd been dealt.  
  
No, the lightning which coursed roughly throughout his veins was strictly on her account, the nymph who sat, still blinking as she stared back at the soldier, an odd mixture of relief and apprehension gracing her face.  
  
The girl seemed so akin to some breed of angel. . .the same he'd been told stories about as a child so long ago. Though the sun had yet to take its place within the sky, the low burning candles watching them from various positions about the room had bathed her in such a warm glow that she seemed nothing save freshly descended from the realm of the heavens above.  
  
Much effort was to be exerted by the man, as he slowly rose to a sitting position before her, his body protesting madly as he turned then to face her, one hand held fast against his aching wound all the while.  
  
Try as he might, and no matter the pain, he couldn't help but keep his eyes locked upon her, the salvation in no real disguise that had indeed saved him from the cruel hands of fate without so much as a second thought about doing so.  
  
Articulation came slowly as they regarded one another, Serenity finding her tongue with some deal of difficulty. He looked a great deal better today, much further from the reaches of Death than he'd been only hours prior.  
  
Ebony hair hanging precariously into his eyes, the color of the ocean on a turbulent night, he appeared more human than apparition, the color having returned a bit to his cheeks, though she still regarded them to be a bit too hollow for his good.  
  
There was no telling how long he had succumbed to the hardships of war, or exactly what the man had seen in his days wandering the Earth. He looked to be not much older than she herself, despite the scars of battle and adversity that graced him.  
  
"How do you fare, soldier?" she wondered, maneuvering herself carefully away from the somewhat precarious position she currently held in order to put a bit of space between herself and her unexpected guest.  
  
He was, after all, still a stranger in her home, and that alone caused the dormant caution lying within to take control, despite the way in which her heart seemed to be pounding within her chest at the mere sight of him sitting silently before her.  
  
A small gasp escaped her as his free hand caught her wrist, his grip firm yet gentle to her fragility as he put an abrupt halt to her retreat. The sight of her mouth, hanging slightly agape as she tugged slightly away from him was quite amusing, though he dared not allow himself the pleasure of chuckling in response.  
  
She greatly reminded him of some frightened rabbit, eyes wide as she again attempted to free herself from his grasp, which only became more unshakable as he drew her a bit closer, his hand finally leaving his wound in order to take hold of her other wrist.  
  
"Your eyes. . . they hold fear within. I ask you, Serenity. . . do not fear me, for I will do nothing to bring harm to you. That alone I owe you, for my life itself has been preserved on your account. I thank you for it, seraphino," Endymion told her, his voice a gruff whisper as he continued to hold fast her gaze, ignoring her question entirely.  
  
(angel)  
  
Unable to think and totally overwhelmed by the apparent sincerity floating within the cobalt eyes that were so effectively staring her through, Serenity only stared, feeling herself being drawn ever closer to the body of the stranger sitting upon her bed, a small grin beginning to curve upon his lips as his hands, ever gentle, began sliding slowly up her forearms.  
  
"What. . . what are you. . ." she began, only to be silenced by his eyes, her heart throbbing painfully as she realized that she indeed wished to be drawn so toward him, despite her mind's commands for her to flee.  
  
"Sia tranquillo. Vivete qui da solo, quello piccolo? Dove sono i vostri parenti?" he wondered, finally managing to sit her down upon her mattress once more as he looked down upon her, hands still continuing along their randomly charted paths.  
  
(Be still. You live here alone, little one? Where are your relatives?)  
  
Speech, though a bit difficult to achieve, came at last, as Serenity answered the questions he seemed so intent on asking.  
  
"Tutto il completamente. Sono tutto che debba girare verso in questo mondo," she informed him a bit gravely, eyes welling up with silent tears at the thought of her mother, whose spirit she conversed with daily despite the apparent insanity of the entire concept.  
  
(All dead. I am all I have to turn to in this world.)  
  
Endymion's face softened, the thought of such a young, delicate creature as she living alone in the center of the forest a bit disturbing to him, though he couldn't figure out for the life of him why it bothered him in such a way.  
  
It was apparent, after all, that she had no problem in handling things on her own, as she had proven ten fold by saving his life when he had been in greatest need of just that.  
  
But now, that controlled decorum had slipped steadily away, revealing the true form of the angel that he had already set in his mind to be his own: a frightened girl, unsure of her the situation in which she currently found herself submerged in.  
  
It was the most surreal vision to ever grace his sight, such a beautiful creature, so pure and true, so unmarred by the things that had plagued him for the latter part of his young life. Nothing but innocence dwelt within her. That much was plain to him. An overwhelmingly refreshing thing it was, to witness anything save gore and death for the first time in much longer than he cared to recall.  
  
Even then, the hand of Death lingered, eager to snatch up anything or anyone foolish enough to allow their guard to drop for any amount of time at all. And yet, Death held no sway, for the company he presently held would make sure to see to its untimely annihilation.  
  
"No longer," he said suddenly, his eyes still studying the gentle lines and curves of her face. Cornflower orbs growing wide at his amazingly profound statement, Serenity's head tilted to the side, blond tendrils framing her face as the candlelight continued to gloat over the room.  
  
"Perhaps your fever speaks for you, soldier, though the words are kind, no matter their source. But, one thing remains against you. Dovete mangiare qualcosa. La vostra resistenza non rinviera se non," she pointed out, not noticing that her own hand was busy betraying her as she spoke, her fingers brushing lightly against the warmth of his cheek.  
  
(You must eat something. Your strength shall not return if you do not.)  
  
Her concern both touched and troubled Endymion, who only then took note of the way in which his side had begun to throb once more, the dull ache growing quickly into an all out throb.  
  
Noticing his distress, the way his teeth were gnashed, his unforeseen savior frowned, knowing then that he required further care. The foreign emotions swirling about her, it seemed, would simply have to wait until afterward.  
  
"You would do well to remain still. Angering your wound further will leave you in no shape to continue along your way," she pointed out, finally able to dart backward, leaving him reaching out to her and longing desperately for her to return to her previous position.  
  
"An angel," she heard him mutter under his breath, his arms finally dropping to his sides in defeat as he allowed himself to be content with watching her flit about the cottage as she retrieved adequate sustenance to thrust in his direction.  
  
"You seem so sure of that," she said, her hands cradling a bowl of something steaming between them as she made her way back towards her bed and the somewhat dazed man awaiting her return.  
  
"It took nothing for you to convince me of it," he assured her, his stomach churning despite the appetizing aroma that reached him as she handed the bowl to him.  
  
"As you say, soldier. Now. . .eat. Your body may protest, though I advise that you not argue. Should you have such faith in me, I implore this: trust in me," she asked, proffering her gift in slightly shaking hands.  
  
His eyes, glowing in the candlelight, sent shivers trailing along her spine, reminding her again of the fact that he was indeed a man, one that she had no previous knowledge of despite his current condition.  
  
The sooner he was well, the sooner he would be on his way, and that was for the best. . . at least she attempted to convince herself of just that. However, the erratic beating of her heart was beginning to cause her to doubt even herself.  
  
"I would be a fool not to," he told her genuinely, finally accepting the bowl as she settled back down beside him, though leaving a comfortable space between them as he forced himself to eat, and only to please her at that.  
  
Each bite seemed to pain him as she looked on, though he continued with his task, until at long last he was finished, a small smile gracing the rosy lips of his new companion. Taking the bowl, she sat it gingerly on the bedside table, before resuming her observation of the soldier.  
  
"Posso avere uno sguardo?" she asked, touching his bandaged side lightly as her eyes bored into his own, leaving many a fresh scar upon his heart.  
  
(May I have a look?)  
  
"As you wish, seraphino. As you wish," he answered, straightening himself as her hands began gentle unwinding his expertly placed bandages. Her smile only grew as she took in the sight, his wound already having begun to heal in so short a time.  
  
(angel)  
  
"Well, soldier. . . it seems that you've managed to skirt your own fate. The scar may run deep, though only to remind you of these days. Soon, no ill effects shall linger," Serenity said proudly, her index finger tracing over his skin with the utmost care.  
  
She felt his body as it shook ever so slightly beneath her soft touch, her actions ceasing as his hand descended upon her own, seeming to engulf it entirely.  
  
"Though nothing I may do could possibly repay your kindness to a stranger, I freely offer all that I may, Serenity. La mia vita e la vostra," he told her, nearly causing her to lose her breath entirely.  
  
(My life is yours.)  
  
Silent moments passed, her heartbeat sounding in her ears as she felt his fingers, trailing a bit cautiously through the golden strands of her hair, smoothing down a few rogue tendrils as he held fast his gaze.  
  
"You owe nothing, soldier. I would have been inhuman to leave you to your demise. Your strength will return soon, and afterward you will be on your way. I would, however, be content with one thing: your name, soldier," she said, her feigned apathy easily seen through by the cobalt orbs of the man who seemed intent on driving her mad.  
  
"Then you shall have it. Endymion I am called. Now tell me this: will you turn me away, little one?" he prompted, his palm coming to rest upon her cheek as his thumb ran along the gentle curve of her lips. Her shivering didn't go unnoticed, only prompting him to lean closer, until the soft scent of her bombarded his senses entirely, nearly intoxicating him in its wake.  
  
"You should rest now. The sun has yet to rise. Sleep," she advised, unable to keep her own hand from moving to cover his own upon her cheek.  
  
"Should my angel remain by my side, no protests shall be yours," he informed her softly, her mind attempting to process the onslaught of emotion that was soon upon her.  
  
"Endymion, I. . ."  
  
"No, little one. I am I man, though I would do naught to dishonor a lady. . .especially one so beautiful and tender as the one before me now. I am not a shadow of the night. Indeed. . .I keep them at bay," he nearly whispered, seeing her eyes close as he leaned closer still, lips touching her forehead like a whisper of wind in the hours of midday.  
  
Pulling back, he noticed a single tear, trailing steadily down her cheek, the sight enough to send a sting shooting throughout his entire body. The thought of causing her pain simply would not due.  
  
"No," he said softly, lips touching her cheek with a tenderness that Serenity had never dreamt of knowing.  
  
"No tears. Angels should never weep," he told her, suddenly surprised to feel her warm arms slide about his neck, the softness of her cheek against his own.  
  
"I know not why," she said, her voice quaking with effort, "but what you say. . .I believe in you. Your eyes hold truth and truth alone," she managed, her lips brushing against his earlobe softly as she spoke.  
  
"Doubt it not, little one," he urged, reluctantly freeing her in order to allow her hands to again wrap his torso with a clean bandage. Pleased with her work, the young herbalist gave no protest as two arms laced themselves about her, pulling her against the form of the man she found herself trusting with her very life, despite every urge of her mind not to. This, it seemed, was not a matter of the mind.  
  
Silence descended, breaths becoming steady as sleep moved again to claim the two occupants of the bed, golden hair mingling haphazardly with ebony as she lay, head resting upon his shoulder, eyes closed as she concentrated on the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took.  
  
Night wore on, candles burning low in the wee hours of morning, just before the first light of the sun graced the Earth with its glow. Still, neither stirred, each content in the silent company of the other, neither realizing just how twisted the humor of fate would prove to be.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
Ok, so that's Interlude #1. I won't promise rapid updates yet, because between work and life in general, who truly knows when I'll have the time or motivation? Not me, so no false promises will be made here. At any rate, I hope you enjoyed this, and thank you for your reviews thus far. I'm glad to know that you like! Until next time, Ja Ne!  
  
*Cosmic Moon Baby* 


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